


Through Torrents and Downpours

by FeelingDreamy



Category: Eventual smut - Fandom, haven't decided if i'm gonna write it in this story or maybe in a separate but related work
Genre: Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Hera Gale is bi, M/M, Multi, Polyamorous Character, Polyamorous Heroes, bnha x oc, bnha/reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 79,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelingDreamy/pseuds/FeelingDreamy
Summary: Hera Gale never dreamed she could become a Pro Hero, let alone that she would move to Japan to study abroad at UA Academy. She didn't consider herself very special, and her abusive parents only added to her lack of self confidence. But on one fateful day when the full potential of her Quirk fully manifests, Hera loses control, and her biggest regret soon becomes her darkest secret.Can Hera ever learn to forgive herself and rise up from the ashes of her life's bleak beginning, or will her inner demons get the best of her and keep her from doing something greater with her abilities?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Origin

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive the crappy summary and the plot holes in my writing style. This story came to me a few days ago after the frustration of reading one incomplete or discontinued, well-written AO3 BNHA story after another drove me to create something similar. There are plenty of amazing fics out there, but all I really craved to read was a thought out BNHA x oc/reader fic that handled an oc's point of view as they attended UA. I'm down to read an oc x BNHA character romance fic any other time, but this time around I just wanted a relatable character who gets along with Class 1-A platonically. My oc Hera will undoubtedly grow closer to some characters than to others, but sometimes loving another person doesn't always have to mean that you are in love with them.  
> Haha sorry guys, my Author's Note kinda became more of a rant than the friendly "hi guys!" I was going for, but here the fuck we are lol. Regardless of wherever the Hell this story goes, I hope at least some of you can find some enjoyment in it.  
> I own nothing of BNHA or it's brilliantly diverse characters, just my own thoughts and ideas.

Chapter One

Hera Gale had grown up in Oklahoma, and she had initially assumed that her Quirk merely manipulated the wind. Her mother could control the water vapor in the air and in low level clouds, while Hera's father could utilize small electrical currents within a building. 

Hera's mother was a functioning alcoholic. Her father was a drug dealer. 

Keyword here is "was."

As Hera began to further practice and discover the aspects of her Quirk, she soon discovered that her abilities reached far beyond simple wind manipulation. It happened late into the spring, while Hera was running through a few drills with her school's track team out on the turf. Her coach was not above keeping the team outside for small drizzles of rain, so long as there was no lightning in the area or it actually poured. A boy in several of Hera's classes who was a known bully was jogging directly behind her, making a point to keep stepping on the back of her shoes. When their coach continued to stand back and do nothing about this, regardless of Hera's audible protests, Hera finally snapped. 

But what Hera intended to do did not happen. Instead of blowing a harmless gust of wind at the boy to knock him on his feet...Hera had summoned a bolt of lightning. 

In an instant a deafening crack of thunder assaulted the team's ears, crashing between Hera and the boy, knocking both them back and forcing everyone else on the field to the ground. More thunder and lighting boomed in the sky above them all, but thankfully Hera had failed to summon any more to the ground. Paramedics arrived on the scene to treat what would be scaring burns on Hera's back, but the boy was taken to the hospital for more serious injuries. 

When Hera's parents caught word of her little stunt at school, not seeing it as the unintentional accident that it truly was, they were beside themselves with fury. 

Her mother's Quirk was harmless enough, but the real danger was her father. So long as Hera was within their creaky, falling apart prison of a house, or near any sort of live outlet, she was as good as tased. Hera's mother only chimed in to throw a few empty beer bottles at her, some breaking over her head. Blood streamed down her face from one of the new wounds to her skull, but this she was used to. This, she could take.

But the second Hera's father stood up with that familiar evil intent in his eyes, Hera decided to act first. 

Hera thought about the sixteen total outlets in the entire house, the lamps, the microwave, the desktop computer in the living room, the washer and the drier. The power lines outside that connected their house to the city. Each of these seemingly harmless mundane things could be quickly turned into a weapon if her father only willed them to be. All could be used to kill her if the voltage was high enough.

So Hera decided to blow out the window behind her, knocking her parents into the opposite wall with the same gust of wind. She vaulted over their torn leather couch and though all of the broken glass, tumbling down the front porch and ignoring the blood that flowed into her eyes and the new shards that cut her skin. If she wanted to use her Quirk, then Hera knew she had to gain some distance. Their home was located in the plains of field and farm several miles from town, and their sole neighbor was an elderly man who owned over a dozen acres of cornfield. But his land was Hera's only hope. Sprinting across the dirt road that divided the old man's property from her parents', now muddy from all of the recent rain, Hera let herself be swallowed by the tall green stalks, obscuring her retreating form from her father's sight. 

Hera's father screamed bloody murder and profanity as he tried to close the distance between them and begin his onslaught of beatings, following her into the cornfield. Hera eventually fell to her knees to catch her breath, the hairs rising on the back of her neck as she sensed his approaching electricity. There had been a tornado warning in the area of and on all day, and Hera counted on the atmosphere's existing instability. She looked up at the already angry looking sky and closed her eyes. In that moment, Hera became sensitive to every molecule of air that brushed against her skin. Every fleck of dust that danced overhead. When Hera opened her eyes, it was as if someone had turned on millions of laser pointers, the dots around her varying in position and color as they fell victim to the mercy of the wind channeling around them. 

If Hera had not been fearing for her life, she would have probably cried. It was likely one of the most beautiful and wondrous things she had ever seen. Unfortunately, Hera did not have the luxury of time. She gave in to a moment of weakness. Gave in to her hatred as she remembered all of the beatings and all of the abuse. Her mind flashed to every lie. To every friend they had driven away. She gave in to it all, and one moment was all it took to alter a few key variables in the updrafts of the immediate atmosphere. One moment to change her life and the lives of everyone in her town forever. 

Let her parents feel the fear, and the terror, and the choking emotions of dread, and let them know what it is to feel powerless for once. 

Then thunder and lightning and chaos erupted overhead. The clouds above darkened to an ashy charcoal and then started to glow an ominous florescent green. They began to churn and swirl and all Hera's father was capable of doing was looking his own death square in the face as her desperation and her sadness manifested into something that would soon grow far beyond even Hera's control. Then there was pelting rain and monstrous hail that grew larger and larger as the storm continued to intensify. A series of small dust devils flared up around her, at first dancing around Hera harmlessly. But then similar funnels roped down from the sky to meet them, and soon Hera was beginning to fear for her own safety. 

She tried to focus, tried to breathe and regain some semblance of control, but her screams of protests and tears were lost to the rain. Hera tried to will it all away, back up into the clouds and back into her broken heart. The funnels had moved away from her but Hera could no longer control their direction. The tiny spinning tendrils soon bloomed into several powerful stovepipes, before bleeding together into a wedge like no one had ever seen. The once white vortex darkened into a brown as it sucked up dirt and absorbed debris. It leeched power from the atmosphere, and strength from Hera. The maelstrom barreled though Hera's house, killing her parents and reducing their home to matchsticks, before turning towards the south. The beast set an unstoppable course for the town of Haven, rendering Hera to watch in horror as the tornado churned through her hometown of Haven, Oklahoma. And she was powerless to stop it.


	2. Aftermath

Chapter Two

Including Hera's parents, the Haven tornado claimed the lives of 21 people, leaving over 352 families homeless and the entire town without power for weeks. Local meteorologists announced that the Haven tornado was the most violent in modern history, spanning 6 miles at its widest point with a path of destruction over 24 kilometers in length. The tornado was on the ground for 40 minutes, with winds reaching over 600 miles per hour, earning it the newly created rating of F6 on the Fujita scale of intensity. Scientists and climatologists around the world used the catastrophe to further rally the public behind their long standing theory of climate change, unknowing that the catalyst was merely a 12 year old girl. Reporters flooded the town to cover the unspeakable destruction, while the survivors of Haven fought to pick up the pieces and get on with their lives, mourning those lost in the storm. 

The only witness to it all was the old man on the other side of the cornfield. 

He could have easily ratted Hera out. Thrown the girl to the people and give the media the scapegoat the masses were looking for to take out their anger. There were laws in place that protected minors from punishment in the event that people or property were harmed in the discovery of their Quirks, but the old man doubted the courts would sympathize with the child responsible for over 21 deaths. So he didn't. 

He found Hera collapsed in the center of his flattened cornfield, unconscious as she lay in the mud, but still breathing. Lightning like bruised inked across her skin in deep hues of blue and purple. The marks spread throughout Hera's entire body, save for her face. Across her chest and down her sides, the length of her arms and legs, even blotching atop the marred scars on her back.

The old man had rushed Hera to the second nearest hospital, as Haven's had been leveled. Most of the towns casualties had occurred within the building, its patients and staff unable to evacuate in time. Once in the neighboring town of Westerly, he handed Hera off to the paramedics, merely telling them that she had been struck by lightning and that her parents had died in the storm, careful not to reveal anything about the girl's Quirk.

When Hera awoke a week later, she looked something akin to a mummy, her sore limbs and torso wrapped in bandages from the neck down. Her throat was as dry as sandpaper, and it took her a few seconds to realize where she was. The old man was by her side, a sad, gentle smile tugging at his lips. He introduced himself as Samuel Weaver and retired language professor who once taught at Haven University. When Sam told Hera the grim news, she was inconsolable. She refused to eat or drink, and she did not utter a sound for several weeks.

But on the day she was supposed to be released from the hospital and taken to an orphanage, Sam presented Hera with the legal documents announcing that he had adopted her. All Hera could do was cry, uttering the first words she had in months, her voice raw from lack of use. She pleaded that she was undeserving of becoming anyone's family, that she was a demon child with a cursed Quirk that should never again see the light of day. Even so, Sam still extended his hand to her, assuring Hera that everyone deserves a second chance.

* * *

Hera spent the rest of her middle school years studying under Sam's guidance. He taught her Japanese and several other languages, in hopes that she could one day attend UA Academy. He could think of no place better to properly train Hera to control her Quirk, as she'd be under the watchful eyes of some of the best Pro Hero's in the world. Samuel signed Hera up for self defense classes and several types of martial arts, as well as gymnastics to improve her reflexes and overall flexibility. Of everything Sam taught her, Hera seemed to enjoy the study of language and gymnastics the most. He continued her education via home school, instruction Hera in subjects from mathematics to Japanese history. 

Sam was the father figure Hera never had. Despite her traumas and her tendency to find interacting with other individuals difficult, the few years she spent with him were the happiest of her life. Sam remained hopeful. He knew that Hera would never be the same girl she was before the disaster, but he had faith in Hera's strength. Every time she fell down, Sam would tell her the same line he told her when she was in the hospital.

"Okay kiddo, so you made a mistake. Now get back up and learn from it so you won't make the same mistake again."

Sam may have provided Hera with the knowledge and the training necessary to pass UA's infamous entrance exams, but Hera had found her resolve all on her own. She vowed that she would never willingly take a life for as long as she lived; that she was going to spend the rest of it saving everyone that she could. And then some. Just like All Might. Just like a full fledged Pro Hero. 

* * *

Samuel got in touch with a few old acquaintances in Japan, and together he and Hera could prove her worth in a private demonstration of her Quirk before a panel of judges in Tokyo. A month later, back in Oklahoma, Hera and Sam had received a holographic letter from UA's Principal Nezu himself. The judges had made the unanimous decision to welcome her into UA with open arms as a Recommendation student, completely waving her uniform, lodging and tuition fees. Hera had been rendered speechless, tears trailing down her face as she cried out in joy and disbelief. 

"B-But-! What if they find out it was me?" Hera panicked in little hiccups. "What if I lose control again??"

Sam smiled softly, holding up a finger thoughtfully to still her, before retreating to a wooden cabinet and producing a metal box. The box was silver and blank, devoid of any type of writing or decoration. Sam encouraged Hera to open it. Inside Hera discovered a thickly woven bracelet, which at first glance looked to be an ordinary sweat band.

A Quirk suppressor. 

"Only individuals with the most powerful of Quirks can ever qualify to purchase these. All Quirk suppressors are regulated by international governments across the world," Samuel explained. "Wear this until you are confident that you no longer require it. You have all of the time in the world, but know that Villains will wait for no one.So you'd better get started, kiddo" Sam smiled at Hera then, and she finally understood that he was temporarily bidding her fare well. "You're gonna do great."


	3. The New Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the shear crap that has become this chapter. I really wanted to hurry and get to the action and drama scenes, they're my favorite to write. I'm decent at setting the tone and mood of a story but I'm not super great at world building, and I'm assuming every person who is unfortunate enough to read this particular chapter knows all about the plot and world of BNHA anyway. So instead of buckling down and putting a little more effort into this chapter, it was all I could do to get it over with so I can get to the fun stuff. Please bare with me! I know this chapter kind of jumps around like a hummingbird on crack and that it's probably riddled with grammatical errors and weird sentences my brain may have glossed over. Again, I apologize! I should have Chapter 4 up in a day or so with the rate I'm blowing through this, so look forward to more content soon!

Chapter Three

It was only her first day official day at UA, but Hera already felt wildly out of place. All of these students earned their places here through the regular exams, so getting in as a Recommendation student kind of singled her out. Yes, her Quirk was unimaginably strong, but what good is a strong ability it if she lacked control? Hera prayed that this school would be able to help her explore every aspect of her Quirk, and help her get a handle on it. If UA’s infamous curriculum couldn’t teach Hera to properly wield her abilities, then it was doubtful anything could.

Ever present in the back of her mind was the fear of someone putting two and two together and finding out about her dark past. That she unintentionally killed both of her parents and 19 other people the second time she ever tried to use her Quirk. No one could ever figure her out, or Hera’s career, and her entire future as a Pro Hero would be over before it ever began. Students around her exchanged greetings, smiling excitedly for their first day, ready to turn their life long dreams into a reality.

Hera was admittedly a bit socially awkward when it came to interacting with others, thanks to her rough upbringing. It wasn’t so severe that Hera was rendered a stuttering mess incapable of holding a conversation, but sometimes crowds made her feel claustrophobic. She never had the same triggers, so just because she handled something one day, that didn’t mean that the same thing couldn’t set her off in another environment. A lot of her anxieties and panic attacks were caused when she got into her own head. Or whenever she let the stresses of things far out of her power stress her out. Socially, she just wanted everyone around her to be happy. If they were happy, then they likely wouldn’t take out their anger and aggression out on her.

Just like her parents had done.

More than anything, though, she just wished she could be more like the students around her. Surely each of them had their own issues, their own stresses, but the blessing of confidence, free of the fear of disappointing someone every time they opened their mouth.

Just like Hera.

Perhaps when Hera had better control over her Quirk, if the day ever came that she wasn’t afraid of destroying an entire town, then maybe she could relax a little. Let her guard down.

Hera had registered her Quirk as simple wind manipulation. Nothing more, at least not for now anyway. Having a Quirk that fully controlled the weather would only give people the crumbs that they needed to connect the dots. Being from Oklahoma being conveniently from the very town that was obliterated, the incident with that boy and her lightning, having an insanely powerful weather Quirk she couldn’t contain, the list goes on.

Ignoring how her mind’s demons raced with thoughts of things far outside her power, Hera tried to focus on the signs in the hallways, not noticing the angry blond boy coming around the corner. Until she smacked right into him and got knocked to the ground, right on her ass. Thank shit she was wearing thick dark green leggings beneath her uniform’s skirt or he would’ve gotten a free show.

“Watch where you’re going you fucking Short Stack!” he snapped seemingly out of nowhere.

Okay.

“I take that back actually. I’m not sorry, and you are severely overdue for an attitude adjustment,” Hera glared at him as she rose to her feet.

“The fuck did you just say to me bitch?!” he yelled, looking more and more like a hedgehog to her with his mop pf spiky hair.

“And here I thought UA’s students would be more reserved,” Hera deadpanned, but something about all of the verbal abuse and the profanity made her feel sickly at home. Oh please don’t let her be one of those women who come from abusive households and fall for losers because that’s all they know. Hera prayed that she did not have such a type. “Also take the yelling down a notch. Unless you’re deaf too?”

“Oh, I can’t wait to make you eat those words, Midget!” he bellowed, palms sparking with what Hera assumed was some sort of fire Quirk.

“Then I’m afraid you’ll be waiting forever,” she glowered as she dusted herself off. “And the name’s Hera Gale, if you don’t mind.”

“As if I’d give a flying fuck who the Hell you are, you damned Extra!”

“Yeah, I’m done here. Hopefully I don’t see you around? Later asshole.” Thank Hell Sam taught her how to thoroughly cuss someone out in Japanese. Hera wrote him off as all talk and made to leave, but the boy grabbed her shoulder.

She panicked.

Turning on her heal, Hera threw a powerful gust of wind his way with one swish of her arm, knocking him into a group of students who had gathered to watch the scene unfolding before them. Phones were out, likely recording the stupid girl who had struck first, using her Quirk without any authorization.

Breaking out of the crowd, Hera sprinted down the hall, praying that her class was at least in the same direction. Luckily there were still about 30 minutes left until classes officially started for the day, so Hera found the first restroom she laid eyes on and let the panic attack she had been suppressing finally happen.

She could hear the tell tale rumbles of thunder outside the building as she began to hyperventilate as silently as possible. The crying came in waves, however Hera was of a sound enough mind to keep the clouds calm enough, fighting to reign in her crying in her lonely restroom stall. Once she was finally able to breathe, Hera checked the time, thankful she still had about 15 minutes to collect herself and find her class. Too bad she’d already made an enemy before homeroom.

Now reeling and drained from both her panic attack and unexpected use of her Quirk. Exiting the stall, Hera washed her face in the first sink she saw and blew her nose. If anyone asked about her complexion she could always blame it on allergies. After she finished cleaning up, Hera returned to the chaos of the hallways and hailed the first teacher she saw. The woman was friendly and happily pointed Hera in the right direction, telling her 1-A was just around the corner. The classroom door had been towering and more than a little heavy, but Hera took a deep breath anyway and gingerly pushed it open.

* * *

Hera tried to sneak in unnoticed behind a scrawny boy with wild green hair, but both he and you were greeted by a stiff looking guy who introduced himself as Tenya Ida. All eyes fell to Hera, as if everyone were already scoping out the new competition.

“Hey, she wasn’t at the Entrance Exam,” blurted a girl with pink skin and hair.

‘Way to state the obvious,’ Hera thought ruefully. ‘And ‘she’ has a name.’

“My name is Hera Gale,” she offered, attempting to come off as friendly, since she had failed so miserably only moments ago in the hall. “I’m a Recommendation student from America. It is nice to meet all of you,” she bowed to the class.

“Woah, you’re really from America?!” a boy with yellow hair exclaimed excitedly, and all Hera wanted to do was take her damn seat.

“You!” growled a familiar voice, causing Hera to visibly cringe. “You’re that bitch from earlier!”

“Bakugou! There is absolutely no excuse for such a hostile direction of profanity at a fellow student!” that Tenya guy reprimanded, and Hera decided she liked him, if only for defending her. Or his extreme morals.

Hera politely waved Ida off in thanks, taking a seat in the back of the class behind a tall girl with black hair that was pulled into a spiky ponytail which fell to one side.

“This ‘bitch from earlier’ has already apologized for bumping into you in the hall back there, so I have nothing left to say to you,” Hera glared down at him, who sat just a few steps down from her same row. She turned to Ida and the boy everyone was calling Izuku Midoriya. “I’d love to talk with both of you later. I apologize for losing my temper.”

No sooner did Hera sit down that their snappy burrito of a teacher arrived, immediately barking orders and complaints before announcing how their first day would go.

Class 1-A would be competing for rankings, but the student who fell into last place would be cut and sent home. Hera tuned out the class’s bickering and worried chatter, instantly feeling self conscious. Most Quirk suppressors completely subdued an individual’s abilities, but hers was designed specifically to let her Quirk seep through, to allow her to get used to using it over time. With her Quirk’s power substantially lessened, could Hera hope to keep up with her peers?

Hera changed into one of the track suits Mr. Aizawa had provided them, loathing that their short shirt sleeves would announce her Quirk suppressor to everyone. But Hera had come prepared, pulling two identical sweat bands out and slipping them over each of her wrists to hide it. Hopefully Aizawa wouldn’t say anything about them.

Keeping mostly to herself, Hera excelled in nearly every exercise, but she made a point to hold herself back, so as not to stand out too much. Best to act like a novice, for now anyway. The long distance throw, however, had been Hera’s best score.

Aizawa had handed her the ball, impatiently demanding she hurry and get her throw over with. So she did. Hera closed her eyes, feeling the pockets of air that flowed around her, swirling about her with wind currents that were unfamiliar to her. Even the pale blue hue of the sky reminded her that she was in a different country. Hera took a deep breath, centering herself, before summoning a spiral of wind roughly her height to levitate the ball from her hand. Just like a piece of hail suspended in an updraft, the ball was carried away, earning her the second highest throwing distance of the day, next to Uraraka.

“368 kilometers,” Aizawa deadpanned, his voice sounded more alive than he appeared. “It’s in the ocean on the other side of Japan.”

Hera’s classmates went nuts, congratulating or gawking at her in shock and awe.

The day ended with no one actually getting cut, and as the final bell dismissed them all for the day Hera packed up her school bag solemnly. She hated to admit it, but she had secretly appreciated the rowdiness and the ruckus of her new classmates. It would be a lonely walk to the dorms.

Hera had been assigned to live in an unoccupied building meant to accommodate up to 25 people, since everything else was full. The building was located about a half mile from the main campus, but at least Hera could practice a little with her Quirk with no witnesses, or anyone that could get hurt. She supposed that was a perk.

Todoroki was among the few students who had yet to filter from the room. He was also dreading the idea of going home, just for different reasons. Todoroki had yet to speak to Hera directly, but his curiosity was beginning to eat at him. Just how did she get into UA? She must have impressed the right people. But to be accepted into UA so last minute...the higher ups must have really wanted her to attend here. Some of the female students bounded up to her then, inviting Hera to walk home with them. At first Hera looked to be in shock, but despite the brief flash of joy Todoroki thought he caught in her eyes, she politely declined.

“I really appreciate the offer, but I’m actually living in the dorms right now,” Hera explained. “The school is covering my tuition and living expenses.”

“Whoa! How the heck did you manage that?!” the one girl named Jiro exclaimed in disbelief.

“Uh...scholarships,” was all Hera told them. “There was a program in America I happened to qualify for that offered a full ride to UA. It actually almost went to this other guy, but at the last minute they chose me instead. I just barely made the cut.”

“Really?” Todoroki finally chimed in. “I wasn’t aware that such a program existed.” Todoroki saw the slight narrowing of her eyes at him, but Hera managed to keep her voice even.

“I hadn’t either, my uh, my Grandpa told me about it. Apparently its a new opportunity America and UA recently adopted.”

Hera didn’t call Samual her Grandpa, but he was certainly too old to pass as her father. She just called him Sam, and Hera prayed she didn’t come off as too awkward. Bidding everyone goodbye before any of them could come up with any more questions, it took all of Hera’s self control not to run out of the room, leaving the girls with a little harmless gossip and Todoroki another student to keep his eye on.


	4. Her Secrets

Chapter Four

Hera ended up ranking third in the class, right under Bakugou and Todoroki. _‘So much for keeping a low profile,’_ Hera mentally kicked herself. She was surprised to find that she got along with the guys far better than the girls. Sure, Hera could play it civil, but she had little experience with gossip or boy talk, only chiming in to conversations if they involved school. The guys seemed a touch more intense than the girls, so when it came to pairing off for group work, Hera often found herself with either Kirishima, Tokoyami, or Kaminari - the more tolerable members of the class. Guys were just...easier to talk to?

Their first class with All Might was in a week, and both Hera and the rest of Class 1-A were cramming to finish their Hero Costume designs - some obviously putting more thought into them than others. The only thing Hera was confident enough in was her design, which consisted of a pair of fitted high waisted pants, and a cropped long sleeved shirt with fingerless gloves that covered her neck completely, and a sturdy pair of boots. She decided to keep the colors simple, opting for all black with grey accent stripes here and there, including a triangle cut out with a lightning bolt that rested just below her collar bone. Hopefully the lightning bolt wouldn’t give her away, she smirked ruefully. 

The design aside, Hera had no idea what material she should request for her costume. Something thick but breathable, but a material that could protect her from her own lightning in the likely event she loses control. As far as anyone knew, Hera’s only ability was wind, so asking her fellow classmates for their input could prove difficult, unless she was tactful. 

“Is everything alright?” Tokoyami inquired during Lunch Rush, snapping Hera out of her daze. “You appear to be deep in thought, and you have hardly touched your food.”

“I’m trying to decide what material I want my Hero Costume to consist of,” Hera answered cautiously, choosing her words carefully. “Have you guys decided the materials for your suits yet?” Good, ask the group, but pay attention to what Kaminari says. Hera listened intently as everyone told her what materials they had chosen and their reasoning for such choices, before asking, “Kaminari, what material are you using to contain your electricity?”

“I’m not ‘containing’ anything!” Kaminari exclaimed smugly. “I chose this metal that’ll totally conduct and amplify my voltage,” he laughed. “Why would I want to contain my Quirk when I can just make it even stronger?” 

Todoroki was listening intently from where he sat at a nearby table, glancing over at Hera, who he could see was clenching one of her wrists beneath the table so hard it started to shake. If she didn’t let up, Todoroki thought she might end up bruising herself.

“You’ve never had any problems controlling your Quirk?” Hera inquired tenitavely, trying to appear more curious instead of rigid. 

“I-uh...I’m kinda harmless after I’ve overused my Quirk,” Kaminari told her vaguely, scratching the back of his head nervously. He sounded embarrassed. “...Let’s just leave it at that for now.”

Hera didn’t pester him any further once she determined he couldn’t help her. She could always ask Momo, as her classmate would undoubtedly know far more about molecular materials than probably anyone else in their class. But then Hera vaguely recalled Momo mentioning that she’d be studying in the Library during Lunch Rush. Well shit. _‘Maybe I can ask Momo after school before she heads home?’_

“Nobidium Carbides,” Todoroki suddenly supplied as Hera started tidying up her lunch tray. Hera looked up at him expectantly, looking equally as eager for the advice as she felt surprised he had spoken to her. Todoroki thought her expression was kind of adorable, though he’d die before admitting it out loud. 

“Nobidium Carbides,” Hera repeated, attempting to commit his words to memory. “Are they metals?” 

Todoroki nodded. “They are metals resistant to heat, and have incredibly high melting points. If you are looking for conduction but your concern is for safety, then perhaps consider lining the inside of your Hero Suit with a layer of insulation.”

Hera listened intently, hanging on Todoroki’s every word, her chin coming to rest on her finger as she appeared deep in thought once again. 

“Th-Thank you?” Hera stuttered out, head snapping up as if to remember to thank him. “Um...I can’t exactly speak for the table, but you’re welcome to eat with us during lunch Rush. If you don’t feel like interacting too much then feel free to sit next to Tokoyami and I. He’s polite and pretty much keeps to himself, so he won’t wear you out. And um...just Hera is alright.”

“I’ll consider it,” Todoroki smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. To Hera, that was probably the closest to a yes she was going to get. “Thank you.” 

Hera turned towards the doors then, braving the masses and heading out, leaving Todoroki wondering why exactly someone with a wind based Quirk would ever worry over suit factors such as heat and conductivity. He looked at the time himself, knowing that he should get going as well. Todoroki hardly had the mental stamina to deal with his father’s complaints today.

* * *

The weight room opened at 5 am sharp, and Kirishima was ready to take full advantage of the opportunity. To his surprise, Bakugou opted to make use of this time as well, complaining that there were fewer “Extras” in the morning. And much to Bakugou’s annoyance, Kirishima started tagging along. The weight room was located in a large building across from the newer dorms. Bakugou preached that no one stupid enough to ‘let themselves go’ physically could ever beat him in a fight, no matter what the Hell their Quirk was. 

Turns out they weren’t alone.

Inside, Hera was already working up a sweat, beating and kicking the ever living shit out of a punching bag with precision and powerful combinations. Her hits filled the otherwise silent gym with volume, and they sounded like they’d fucking hurt.

Bakugou became mesmerized by Hera’s speed and her form, his snide comment lost in his throat. She was wearing fitted black shorts and a black sports bra, but it wasn’t Hera’s lack of clothing that caught his attention. It was her crazy looking scars, and Bakugou wondered what the fuck kind of injury she must have sustained to get them. He thought about the thick tights she wore to cover her legs, and guessed now shit made sense. Guess they weren’t just a fashion statement. Faint blue and purple scorch marks etched across her back, arms and legs, intricately spreading across her body like tree branches. 

It took Hera a moment to realize that they were there, only noticing her classmates when she finally took a moment to breathe, pausing in her onslaught of hits to steady the punching bag with shaking hands. 

“Oh...hey guys,” Hera greeted them in between pants, stumbling across the matts to retrieve her water bottle while she fought to catch her breath. “Did you guys...wanna use the punching bag?” 

“Who the fuck said we wanted to numb nuts?” Bakugou barked out of habit, but Hera thought it lacked its typical bite. 

“Cool it man, she was just trying to be nice,” Kirishima reprimanded lightly, but brushing him off. “Quit being so hostile.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Bakugou snapped back, though his volume was already lowering. 

“It’s all good, Kiri. I was just letting off a little steam,” Hera assured him, ignoring Bakugou completely. 

“K-Kiri??” Kirishima blushed, not expecting the nickname. 

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It just sorta came out. I’ve been kinda secretly giving everyone little nicknames so I can remember them,” Hera laughed nervously, “I really struggle with names.” 

“N-No! It’s totally cool with me! Call me what you want!” Kirishima exclaimed, just happy to be talking to a girl. _‘So innocent,’_ Hera mused, cracking a smile. Then she turned to Bakugou, purposefully meeting his gaze before he could look away. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Sparky,” Hera teased, still chugging from her water bottle. “And my eyes are up here,” she continued, gesturing to the rest of her.

“Who the fuck said I was staring at your damn scars?!” Bakugou exclaimed, fumbling over his words in his embarrassment. 

“Dude, I think you just did,” Kirishima interjected, throwing his friend under the bus and hardening his skin just in time to dodge an explosion to the face. 

“It’s all good, I’m not offended,” Hera told them. “I got struck by lightning when I was eleven, and then this shit happened.” 

“Yo, you were actually struck by lightning?! That’s so cool!” Kirishima gushed, before catching himself. “I mean not cool?”

“Hey, I lived,” Hera laughed nervously, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. “The marks are a combination of burns and the blood vessels that ruptured when I got hit. They’re the path the lightning took through me, and then into the ground,” Hera explained. “I’m not really embarrassed to show them, but they tend to freak people out so I just cover them up. Not a big fan of people’s pity,” Hera shrugged, grabbing her duffel bag and slinging her towel over one shoulder as she gathered her things. “They’re really weird, too. They like get darker whenever I overuse my Quirk, and lighten if I don’t use it for a while. If I ever chose to be a civilian I wonder if they’d fade completely.”

“You’re just-you’re so cool, H-Hera?” Kirishima used her first name, and Hera nodded that it was ok. “You’re more of a man than either of us! Like, tough I mean. Not every girl could just take such a thing with grace like that.”

“Oi what the fuck?” Bakugou complained, throwing his bag and towel down on the matts after choosing the workout machine he wanted. “Don’t lump me in with you, Shitty Hair!”

“Yeah, you’re way cooler than Time Bomb over there,” Hera whispered dramatically to Kirishima, but perfectly loud enough for Bakugou to hear. 

“You say something Short Stack?!” Bakugou snapped again, stomping over to you and Kirishima. To this Hera put her hands up in mock surrender, smiling smugly, before Bakugou started barking orders to Kirishima. “Yo stop flirting with Midget and let’s get shit done!”

“Good luck with Dynamite,” Hera joked, patting Kirishima on the shoulder before turning to leave, until a wave of dizziness made her sway unsteadily into Bakugou, who was now standing beside them both. 

“Whoa there, you good?” Kirishima asked worriedly, but it was all Bakugou could do to keep breathing, with Hera’s chest now flush up against his. 

“Y-Yeah,” Hera panted, still leaning on Bakugou until he decided to push her away, surprised when he never did. “Been training since like...10 pm?”

“But the weight room like just opened??” Kirishima wondered aloud. 

“No one locked it up and my dorm is right…” Hera looked around her then as if she wasn’t quite sure which way was up or down, or even where she was. “The next building over.” Hera tried to push herself off of Bakugou then, but he held her steady by the small of her back with one hand.

“Get your shit together, Midget,” Bakugou snapped, but his rudeness seemed to lack its usual bite. 

“Yeah, I may have overdone it. I did take breaks though,” Hera confessed, gingerly pushing off of Bakugou when she saw just how red his face was, then realized their proximity. “I get nightmares sometimes and then I can never get back to sleep. Figured if I exhausted myself I’d eventually be able to get back to sleep. Guess I sort of lost track of time.”

“Yo you’re gonna be so exhausted today,” Kirishima stated worriedly. “You should at least try to get in an hour or two before classes start.”

“Yeah, I plan to. Gonna hit the showers then the hay,” Hera promised, taking several more swigs from her water bottle, but Bakugou remained silent at her side, in case she fainted or some shit. 

“You planning on eating something?” Bakugou questioned skeptically, imagining the amount of calories a workout of her caliber must have burned off.

“I eat all my meals in the cafeteria,” Hera assured them. “I’m severely directionally challenged, so I haven’t braved the local markets yet to get any ingredients to make something myself. I’m not much of a cook anyway. Plus I doubt I’d survive the subway and train stations on my own,” Hera laughed. “I’ve only been studying Japanese for like three years so I’m still pretty rusty with my kanji. It’s all I can do to keep up during class.”

“You could’ve asked us!” Kirishima exclaimed, throwing an arm over Bakugou’s shoulder, much to the latter’s annoyance, but he tolerated it. “I’ve been meaning to check out the area anyway! We can plan a day!”

“Oi, I never agreed to go,” Bakugou complained. “Ask the Runt on a date on your own. Why should I waste my time shopping when I could be training?” 

At that accusation, Kirishima’s blush was legendary.

“Yeah, I don’t think Bakugou could handle himself out in the streets for a few measly hours,” Hera teased, winking at Kirishima knowingly. “It’s a big bad world out there. But don’t worry Baku-bro, if you do decide to come with us, I’ll protect you.”

“What the actual fuck?! Take that back, bitch! I can more than handle myself in the streets!” Bakugou bellowed, hands sparking in his anger. 

“Then I guess we’ll see you then,” Hera took the risk of patting Bakugou on the shoulder, earning her several insults and a glare, but nothing more. She took this chance to exit the gym. “Just give me time to request the trip so I can leave campus.”


	5. Stagnant

Through Torrents and Downpours 

Chapter Five

* * *

Surviving classes until Lunch Rush felt like a losing battle, but the granola bar the guys gave her certainly helped the hunger. Finally in the cafeteria, Hera downed two coffees, but still managed to hydrate with some water. She winded up sitting with the Bakusquad for lunch, quickly getting accustomed to all of said boy’s obnoxious yelling. Not typically one for meat, Hera opted for a salad instead, with some steamed veggies and rice on the side. 

“Woah, that’s like super healthy!” Kirishima praised, having just arrived with his own tray of food, which consisted mostly of meats. “Is that really gonna be enough for you? You could definitely use some protein after that workout last night.”

Upon hearing this, Bakugou paused in his chewing, tuning in to the conversation unfolding before him.

“I’m not like a vegetarian or anything,” Hera admitted. “I just hate biting into fat or gristle? I guess I’m a texture person. I love seafood, but not if I have to fight with all the little bones or shells,” she shrugged. “I should probably pick up some vitamin supplements whenever I go into town.” 

“They serve salmon here,” Kaminari chimed in. “It’s not too expensive and there’s no bones in it. You could give that a try?” he offered. 

“They actually have salmon here?!” Hera exclaimed in disbelief through a mouthful of rice. “Dude, I love UA.” 

The guys all burst into laughter then, each of them secretly finding her innocent comments rather adorable, and even Bakugou found himself fighting a smirk. But then Bakugou’s eyes drifted to the thick, dark band on Hera’s wrist, the sleeves of her uniform rolled up slightly in attempt to keep them out of her food. He noticed them during the rankings, but had dismissed them as sweatbands. But why bother wearing one when they weren’t even training?

“The fuck is that shit?” Bakugou questioned suddenly, all eyes falling to Hera’s wrist, which Hera immediately gripped with her free hand. Everyone at the table paused in their eating, and Todoroki - who had been sitting only a table away - suddenly listened in. 

It was all Hera could do not to panic, and she fought to keep her voice from shaking. Todoroki noticed her habit once again, as Hera soon resumed clutching desperately at her wrist in a death vice beneath the table. She didn’t want to lie to her classmates, but the truth was too risky. So Hera decides to compromise, not quite lying to them, but not telling anyone enough to connect the dots. 

“It’s a Quirk Suppressor. My Quirk can be...difficult to manage. I...um...lost control of it once I was a kid and I...I hurt a lot of innocent people. My foster parent, Sam, got a hold of one for me,” Hera managed.

“Foster parent? Are you adopted?” Tokoyami questioned hesitantly, but Hera seemed to visible close herself off, her eyes hardening. 

“My birth parents were unfit to care for themselves, let alone raise a child. They died in an accident right after I started middle school. I have no other family or relatives that were willing to take me in, but my neighbor Samuel took me in,” Hera explained, pushing her food away despite having consumed so little, finding that she was no longer hungry.

“Man, that’s...really rough. I’m sorry to hear about your parents,” Kirishima offered, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, not knowing what else he could possibly say.

“Don’t be,” Hera waved them off, as if speaking of the offenders would summon them. When everyone at the table looked at Hera like she had grown a second head, she elaborated. “My parents were drug addicts and alcoholics. They were verbally and physically abusive to me-...uh, wow, this is depressing? Sorry, uh, yeah. Quirk Suppressors. Woo,” Hera feigned enthusiasm, finger making slow circles in the air in mock excitement. It was the first time during the entire conversation Hera had released her wrist, which Todoroki would be shocked wasn’t already bruising at this point. 

Kirishima and Bakugou exchanged a knowing glance, wondering exactly how many of Hera’s scars were from merely overusing her Quirk, or gifted to her by her parents. 

“What made you want to become a Hero?” Bakugou outright asked, breaking the somber silence he had fallen into. 

“I do want to help people, but if I can take anything away from my time here at UA, then I hope I can finally be able to control my Quirk. I know that sounds pretty anticlimactic and selfish, but it’s where I’m at,” Hera shrugged awkwardly, before turning her head to smirk at Bakugou. “But if I can knock arrogant guys like this idiot down a peg while I’m here, then shit will be worth it in my book,” Hera deflected, changing the tone of the conversation, and getting it out of her business. 

Cue the explicit cursing and profanity stringing from Bakugou, as the table laughed away the phantom ghosts of her dark past, while Hera continued to clutch at her wrist beneath the table.

* * *

Hera thankfully made it through the day uneventfully, eating a brief pre workout meal in the cafeteria and taking the time to study while her stomach settled. She decided not to do anything super intense training wise, opting instead to do a little weight lifting in the gym, before maybe loosening up with a light run on the treadmills. Hera hummed thoughtfully, as she blasted through her math homework. 

Most of the equipment in the gym next to her dorm was safe to use without any aid, but it was probably a bad idea to attempt the bar on her own without a spotter. Hera cursed under her breath as she took in the now empty cafeteria. She kicked herself, deciding it would probably be to her benefit to ask for a few of her classmates' numbers. Something in Hera wondered if Bakugou would surrender his cell number to anyone, let alone her. Would she come off as too bold to ask her peers for their contact information, even if she swore up and down it was for academic purposes only? She could always pull the ignorant American card and just play dumb about their more reserved Japanese culture.

Oh, maybe this is why people hate Americans.

Sighing, Hera closed her textbook heavily and packed up her schoolwork to make her way back to the dorms, when a surprise visitor appeared before her.

“You seem to be stressed about something,” boomed the voice of Ida, who was still in his school uniform as well. “If you would like to unburden yourself Miss Gale, then I would be more than happy to listen.” 

Hera laughed then, something already crumbling inside her finally breaking as her gratitude dissolved into tears. She could really use a friend right now. 

“A-Are you alright?! Have I offended you in some way?!” Ida stammered helplessly, stiff arms flailing like a wild robot. Hera quelled her own outburst enough to shake her head no.

“I’d love to vent a little bit, if it’s not too much trouble,” Hera ventured warily. “If you have a few moments to spare, that is.”

“Of course! Anything to help a fellow classmate!” Ida offered, politely taking the empty seat beside Hera. 

“Thank you,” she began, taking a deep, grounding breath to steal her nerves. Hera hated that she couldn’t tell him absolutely everything, that she had to choke back her words and all of the things that have been eating at her for years. But she couldn’t afford a misstep now, not after she had gotten this for. Hera couldn’t afford to trust anyone, and this realization hit her hard. Choking back tears, Hera attempted to release some of her tension and unburden some of her stresses.

“Leaving America and coming to Japan...being accepted into UA when I can barely read and write the language at more than a middle school level...it’s just a lot. I have frequent nightmares, and sometimes a good workout is the only thing that can exhaust me enough to get back to sleep,” Hera rubbed her shoulders sorely. “I decided to hit the gym last night after hours, but I overdid it. I could really use a sparring partner from time to time to keep me from overworking myself. But um...I don’t have anyone’s cell number, sooo I decided it best not to work out tonight. The last thing I need right now is to get myself injured because I’m not in a proper mindset,” Hera finished sheepishly, proud that she was currently keeping her panic attack at bay, at least for the time being. 

“Perhaps I can designate a voluntary directory, of sorts. I can post it in the class for those who are willing to share their personal contact information,” Ida offered brilliantly, reaching out to grasp Hera’s shoulder reassuringly. “If there are still those who are opposed to the idea, then maybe we can persuade the class to agree upon a phone app that protects privacy. The semester has only just started, Miss Gale. We can’t have you overworking yourself like this again, but I am proud that you summoned the courage to confide in me. No one should have to suffer such turmoil alone.” 

“Will you really?! Thank you Class Rep! I could hug you, but don’t worry I won’t!” Hera laughed at the blush now blooming across Ida’s cheeks. “And just Hera is fine, if that’s alright with you Ida.” He stammered in embarrassment, but agreed to drop the formalities, if only to put Hera’s mind somewhat at ease. 

* * *

The next morning, Ida made the proposal before their class before homeroom. When her peers showed some hesitation, having barely known one another for a week, Hera took a leap of faith. Rising stiffly from her chair, still sore from her workout the other night, Hera crossed the room, pencil in hand. Wordlessly, she wrote her cell phone and email on the once blank piece of paper Ida had taped on the wall beside the whiteboard, before returning to her seat. Next came Ida, and then Bakugou and Kiri, and soon the entirety of Class 1-A. 

It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but Hera wondered if this was what it was like to have friends. To be part of a family. Aizawa sauntered into the room then, yellow sleeping bag encompassing him like a caterpillar, and Hera smiled as the sting of fresh tears clouded her vision. 

“Your Hero suits are here,” the zombie of a teacher announced boredly. “Get changed and meet up at Ground Beta in ten.”


	6. Overtaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Singles Awareness Day guys! I'm alone, I am broke, and I am bitter!  
> Hope ya'll are having a better holiday than me! If you're not, then distract yourself with one of my least favorite chapters of this story lol. Idk if I've just been stressed lately moving back in with my mother because my Grandpa and I were just too different, because I'm struggling with all of my medical bills, because I'm starting a new job soon that may make or break me, or because I'm afraid of returning to college to attempt my sixth math course to finally fisnigh my Gen-Ed Associates, but this chapter was surprisingly hard to get through.  
> Get yourselves some chocolate and curl up with this chapter, and we all may just get through this, I promise. <3 T^T ---> ^.^

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Six

* * *

When Hera tried on her Hero Costume for the first time, she thanked whichever God was responsible that it fit her perfectly, and not too tight like Uraraka’s. Her suit was exactly what she had asked for: a black and gray ombre jumpsuit that covered her from her neck to her toes, black combat boots and fingerless leather gloves, with a triangular cut out in the center of her collarbone, accented with a small lightning bolt. She hadn’t gotten around to designing a mask yet, but for the sake of not being recognized should she actually become a Hero, Hera made a mental note to draw something up. She only hoped the alloy she chose would hold up against a bolt of lightning, but that was a test for another day...unless she tested it out on Kaminari in secret? 

Hera laughed at the thought. 

All Might met them at Ground Beta, and after briefly-not-so-briefly gushing like a fangirl over how cool they looked in their Hero Costumes, he explained that they would be battling in teams of two. Class 1-A drew lots, and soon they were divided up into either Heroes and Villains. Problem was, Hera’s addition to the class made the number of students uneven, so she couldn’t be paired with anyone. 

“So are three people going to have to fight again for my battle orrr?” Hera asked All Might. “Wouldn’t that give those three an unfair advantage over me with a battle under their belts? Surely they could learn from their previous battles and apply it to mine.”

“These are all valid concerns, Miss Gale,” All Might boomed confidently. “We’ll decide upon your opponents after everyone else has fought, depending on their physical conditions after their battles. I hope that is satisfactory.”

A vague answer, but Hera would take it, turning her attention instead to the large screen before them. Hera sensed the tension in the air building as Bakugou and Midorya ‘s groups squared up. From what she gathered from their fight, they were childhood acquaintances, but it was clear to all in the room just who the bully between the two of them had been. Their fight was emotional, to say the least, and Hera could honestly admit that she sympathized with both of them. She could relate to Midorya’s desperation to control his Quirk as soon as possible, and his timid nature gifted to him by years of mental and physical abuse. 

Hera thought of her own scars, though not the ones she earned from her own Quirk. 

She could relate to Bakugou’s fear and his emotionally stunting hatred, and when Hera found herself caught between Bakugou’s emotional inner turmoil and Midoyia’s strong desire to prove himself to the world, she found it impossible to pick a side to root for. To feel like you have something on someone and then find yourself floundering behind them, unable to keep up, unable to understand where the hell their sudden abilities came from or why… Hera eyed Midorya as he flipped Bakugou over his shoulder. She shook her head. Midorya’s Quirk was his business, and Hera had much bigger fish to fry, and more than her fair share of secrets to keep as well. Who was she to pry? 

In the end, Bakugou and Ida’s team lost the battle because Bakugou’s demons got the best of him. But when Bakugou quickly began to display the tell tale signs of a panic attack, All Might stepped in to quell it with a few choice words Hera couldn’t pick up through the speakers. The matches commenced after a brief review of the previous battle, but Bakugou was still rendered completely rigid, mind still reeling and racing as he soon found himself no longer the star pupil. Hera doubted with certainty that he would ever accept any form of physical assurance such as a pat on the back. But her legs seemed to move her on their own, and soon she found herself standing next to Bakugou. Not too close, just there. The two of them exchanged a meaningful glance that spoke volumes, and Hera remained beside him despite the glare that she received, hoping that her presence alone would do anything to ground him. 

He found himself needing the quiet company after Todoroki’s battle. 

* * *

When the time for Hera’s assessment finally arrived, All Might threw her a curve ball. 

“Ah, Miss Hera!” All Might bellowed. “Now it is your time to shine! I have considered your earlier observations, and have come to a conclusion. Rather than fighting against your fellow students, you shall be tested amongst Aizawa, Present Mic, and myself instead!”

Class 1-A was silent for a solid few seconds while they all processed what All Might had proposed, until Hera broke the silence with her screams of outrage. 

“Is this some sort of a joke??” Hera seethed, the fury in her eyes enough to make All Might himself take a step back. “What chance would I stand against two Pro Heroes even with one on my side?”

“Worry not, Miss Gale! Each of us will be wearing Quirk Suppressors to help level the playing field!”

“And is that supposed to erase your experience as Pros?” Hera quipped brutally. 

“There’s something else,” Aizawa spoke up, removing himself from his yellow sleeping bag to stand before Hera, if only to make himself appear more intimidating. He reached for her wrist, holding it up for all to see. “Only the three of us will be wearing Quirk Suppressors. I want to see the full extent of your abilities.”

Hera’s face paled and her throat closed up, this time in her own panic, but she managed to find her voice and held onto her fury. 

“Then I have one condition,” Hera growled through clenched teeth. “I want you on my team. I don’t care if that means I have to face All Might.”

“We’re the adults here. You don’t get to tell us how to teach our class,” Aizawa reminded Hera darkly.

“--MY QUIRK CAN KILL PEOPLE!!!” Hera screamed, losing whatever was left of her composure. Tears streamed down her face as her body shook, and she fought to cover her tracks, hoping she hadn’t said too much. “I lost control once when I was a kid...I hurt so many people…” Hera sobbed, loathing that she had shown such weakness to her classmates, that she may have given them another piece to her life’s dark puzzle. “I stopped using my Quirk for years, until I found the resolve to attend UA and make myself into...something-ANYTHING better! My body isn’t used to handlinig my Quirk since I went so long without using it. Without you, Aizawa-sensei, I’m a danger to myself and everyone around me,” Hera growled, wiping roughly at her face again and just wanting the tears to fucking stop. “It would only take me a few seconds to turn Ground Beta into unrecognizable rubble. You’re. On. My. Team.”

Aizawa didn’t know what he could possibly say to convince Hera to trust him, so he released her wrist and laid a firm hand on her shoulder, settling for a, “I’ve got your back, kid.” 

To everyone’s amazement, including Hera’s, it worked. But regardless of how well or how horribly her battle turned out, Hera would not be looking forward to facing her classmates, especially Bakugou and Todoroki. It was hard to get things past the two of them on a normal day. 

Aizawa gestured for Hera’s Quirk Suppressor, but she shook her head.

“Not in here,” Hera warned him, heading for the metal doors that would lead them up a long flight of stairs, and into Ground Beta. “It’ll start to rain. I’ll give it to you once we’re topside.

“Yo, what was  _ that _ all about?” Jiro whispered amongst her peers, careful to keep her voice out of Hera’s earshot.

“Yeah, is her Quirk really that dangerous?” Sero wondered aloud, his voice a little louder than Jiro.

“I suppose it must be for her to make such a scene,” Momo concluded, as intrigued to see Hera’s abilities as everyone else. 

While the class continued to scrutinize Hera’s powers, some watched her closely for any sign that this wasn’t a bluff. She gave away no such tells. Before Hera ventured up the stairs with Aizawa, she worriedly glanced back at Bakugou.

“I’m fucking fine, Midget!” he growled, not needing her concern. “Worry about yourself for once, damnit! I don’t want your pity!” 

Smiling weakly in surrender, Hera turned to finally ascend the long flight of stairs before her. She took a deep breath when they arrived on the surface to ground herself as best she could, before relinquishing her Quirk Suppressor to Aizawa. Her safety net was gone, and the panic rose in her throat and Hera’s heart rate increased. The rain started almost immediately, and soon it began to pour and thunder. Aizawa fixed a glare onto Hera.

“I thought you had a wind Quirk?” he questioned, roughly jamming a thumb up to the sky. 

“Yeah, that’s what I told UA during my Entrance Exam in Tokyo,” Hera admitted, abruptly ending the conversation as she alarm signaling the start of the battle blared overhead, along with the rumbles of thunder she didn’t even bother to contain. “Oh and heads up,” Hera cautioned her teacher. “If I get a nosebleed, then we’ve only got about five minutes or so before I pass out. I can already feel my Quirk starting to drain me. Let’s make this quick.” 

“Are you anemic?” Aizawa questioned as Hera bought up their speed to a light jog as they approached the Villain's building, already noticing how her skin had started to pale. 

“Oh I’m violently iron deficient,” Hera whispered to him as they entered the building. “But iron supplements tend to make me throw up, so I must be deficient in some other vitamin, idk.” They stilled when they heard Present Mic’s voice reverberate through the concrete floors overhead. “I guess we should head towards that?” Hera ventured. “It’s either a trap to lure us in or Mic is incapable of staying quiet.” 

“Both, but it’s your call,” Aizawa said knowingly, the poor man looking like he just wanted a damn nap. 

“Mic is too loud to be stealthy, so if they’ve split up at all, then All Might would be by far the stronger offense. Plus, even if we avoid All Might as an obstacle and we find Mic guarding the bomb, he could easily alert All Might that we’ve found him; no matter how many floors apart they may be. Let’s just proceed with caution.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, more than a little impressed with Hera’s analytical skills, but coming up with a plan and successfully executing it were two very different things. He let Hera lead the way, wondering just how well she would fair - or not. 

But when they rounded the next corner, Hera ran smack into All Might.

The Number One Hero shouted, “Surprise! I am here!” and raised his arm for one of his infamous Smashes, but Hera was faster. With a blinding sweep of her arm, Hera summoned a gust of wind so powerful it blew out every window in the entire building - knocking All Might out of one of them. When Aizawa was sent into a wall, Hera paled, sprinting down the hall to make sure he was okay.

“I’m so sorry!” Hera tried not to sob, frantically looking her teacher over for any signs of broken bones. Aizawa merely said potentially harming a teammate would cost her some points, but he assured her he was alright. They bolted for the stairs. So much for stealth. They located Present Mic on the sixth floor, with All Might hot on their heels, his Quirk Suppressor the only thing inhibiting his usual speed. All Might crashed through a wall to reinforce Mic. “Game plan!” Hera yelled quickly to Aizawa, before Mic could cut off their communication with his own screams. “Cut off All Might’s Quirk-!” was all Hera was able to say before the unholy cries of “YEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!” began. Mic wasn’t offensive so much as he was annoying, but with All Might’s quirk suppressed, all Hera had to do was knock the two ‘Villains’ aside - this time with a tactically weaker gust of wind - so she and Aizawa could secure the bomb. 

The Hero’s had won. 

“Excellent work, Miss Gale!” All Might began as he picked himself off from the rubble, impressed with Hera’s speed. “You have superb reflexes well suited for a Hero’s line of work-…” was all Hera was able to make out before her senses started to fade. Blinking through blurry vision, she turned to face Aizawa, feebly holding out her hand for her Quirk Suppressor. Then Hera’s nose began to bleed, and a monsoon came to life outside their building, reaching peak intensity just as her teachers slipped her bracelet back onto her wrist. The storm had continued long after Hera had lost consciousness, dissipating only after she and Class 1-A were forced to evacuate Ground Beta entirely. 


	7. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This chapter is more plot and emotion heavy, but get ready for the next one. The Villains are closing in! Please leave some comments and let me know what you guys think! Let me know how I'm doing, I'd genuinely love the feedback! And thank you to my first kudo! It made me excited to crank out another chapter and avoid reality! *stressed laughter*
> 
> Enjoy Guys!

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Seven

* * *

Hera woke the following afternoon next to Midorya in the infirmary. She deadpanned, realizing that she must have fucked up royally, especially to wind up in the infirmary with her classmate that literally broke his bones every time he used his Quirk. Hera sighed, supposing nosebleeds were far less inconvenient, even if they were rather unglamorous (not that breaking bones was any prettier). She took in the cast on Midorya’s right arm and the IV in his left, his steady breathing calming her nerves. Feeling a similar prick in her own arm, she followed the thin tube up to a depleted bag labeled ‘O Positive.’ Hera mentally scoffed, dully remembering that she had in fact blurted ‘Oh I’m violently iron deficient,’ right to Aizawa’s face during the start of their battle. 

Her stomach growled loudly then, and Hera groaned at the thought of food. Wait, was she actually drooling?

“I see you’re finally awake,” croaked the voice of an old woman. ‘ _ Probably Recovery Girl _ ,’ Hera thought. The sound of a rolling desk chair was the only warning the Universe had granted Hera. The elderly woman promptly ripped back the curtains lining the perimeter of her bed, effectively blinding Hera with the vibrant orange glow of the setting Sun outside her window. Ferrally, Hera hissed at the light, shielding her eyes with her free wrist as she sunk beneath the bed sheets on her gurney. Recovery Girl wasn’t having any of it though, pulling the covers down with a strength no ordinary woman of her age and stature should have. Hera wondered if it came from years of lifting patients, deciding not to stick around too long to discover if the older woman was capable of lifting her as well - if she hadn’t already. 

It was then that Hera’s mind drifted to her classmates, and the memories all came flooding back to her. The haunting howl of the winds as they intensified out of her control, the stinging pelt of the rain - had there been hail? - the dizziness that had accompanied her splitting migraine as the world tilted away from her, the nosebleed, the distant cries of Aizawa and her classmates. Hera bolted out of bed with a start, her legs fumbling beneath her as she collapsed into a heap onto the cold tile floor. It was then that she realized she was wearing pajamas. Recovery Girl must have changed her clothes for her. 

“Not so fast, girly!” the older woman chided firmly. “You’re not going anywhere until you’ve had something to eat! Not get back into bed!” 

When Hera tried and failed to do what was asked of her, Recovery Girl blew Midorya’s cover, demanding that if he had the energy in him to feign sleep then he had the energy to help her lift Hera into bed. Just how long had he been awake? 

Stammering wildly as if he had been buried deep into his own thoughts, the green haired boy had snapped to attention. Recovery Girl skillfully took the IV from Midorya’s arm in half a second, and the vein didn’t even weap any blood. Recovery Girl was a legend. Appearing at Hera’s side, Midorya hooked his newly freed arm around Hera’s waist, being careful to avoid bumping his bandaged wrist. Hoisting her up, the boy returned his classmate to her hospital bed easily. Damn, was she really that hungry? Well, at least Hera knew Recovery Girl wasn’t strong enough to lift her. 

“I’ll have some food sent in for the both of you two right away,” the Hero informed them, eyeing Hera somewhat longer than Midorya. What, did she think Hera wouldn’t eat or something? Hera supposed that this was nothing new. American portions are ridiculously huge, but Hera no matter how much she knew she could put away at a restaurant, people always looked at their thin frame and assumed she was anorexic or something. Hera resolved to eat every crumb the Hero presented her, if only to make a point. “I need to have a word with each of you individually concerning your Quirks. Then you’re both free to leave. However, I’m not discharging either of you until you’ve eaten everything on your plates! Am I clear?”

Hera and Midorya nodded profusely. 

* * *

“And don’t go making this bone breaking nonsense a habit! Do you hear me, boy?!” Recovery Girl threatened Midorya with a hard slap to the back of his skull, before sending the young man on his way. However, when the senior Hero turned to Hera, the woman’s face melted into something more serious. What she said next would shake Hera even more than All Might’s proposal for her to fight amongst the Pros during their matches. “I want you to stop using your Quirk Suppressor entirely.”

Hera looked at the woman before her, but like All Might, Recovery Girl wasn’t joking. 

“But I can’t just-!”

“No buts!” her nurse snapped, cutting Hera off before she had the chance to panic even further. “It’s just as you said in Ground Beta: your body isn’t accustomed to the strain of using your Quirk. In all my years I have met only a handful of people who could utilize their abilities through a Quirk Suppressor of your caliber. Among those individuals is All Might himself.”

“Are you insane?!” Hera complained fearfully, tears welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision, but she didn’t bother wiping them away. When the sky outside started to darken with clouds, Hera glared again at Recovery Girl, gesturing angrily out the window. “See? This is why I need a Suppressor. I refuse to willingly leave my classmates at the mercy of my mood swings. I can’t be conjuring up a bolt of lightning every time I feel surprised or threatened or angry-...ah, shit…” Hera kicked herself, having not meant to let that one slip.

“You can command lightning as well?” Recovery Girl raised her eyebrows, more intrigued than she was surprised. Hera decided to come clean, if only a little.

“Only once in middle school. It's how I received the scars on my back, as well as unintentionally scarred the face of a fellow classmate for the rest of his life,” Hera revealed darkly. “I haven’t since then, but not because I’m unable to. In fact, most of the time, it’s all I can do to keep the lightning at bay whenever I make it rain.”

“Interesting,” the Hero mused. “Well if you won’t do it because you’re afraid, then do it for you. If you don’t get ahold of your abilities sooner rather than later, then I’m afraid you may not get a lot of tomorrows,” she reported grimly. 

All Hera could achieve for a long moment was gawking at the woman, until she finally found her voice.

“...You mean I could...die?” Hera concluded in a tiny voice, the same tone her body would adopt after a beating from her parents - after something in her had broken. 

The older woman nodded curtly.

“I will allow you to attend classes and train hand to hand with your peers, but I forbid the use of your Quirk in combat until your body can handle it from day to day,” Recovery Girl gestured outside. “I strongly dissuade your use of your Quirk in combat until you can successfully keep the rain at bay.” Hera sighed stressfully, standing up slowly and surrendering the small bracelet that had been among the only things providing her with a mental safety net, as much as it had physically. “And another thing, Miss Hera!” Hera fought the urge to roll her eyes, reminding herself once again that this was Japan, and not America. “I want you to gain some weight! You’re far too skinny!”

It was Hera’s turn to raise her eyebrows. 

“Exactly how much weight?” Hera asked tentatively, sensing that she was on thin enough ice as it was. 

“Seven kilograms,” the Hero stated bluntly, and Hera’s eyes widened a comical degree as she mentally did the math.

“You want me to gain fifteen pounds?!” Hera exclaimed in disbelief. “I can hardly maintain my current weight without losing it!” 

In response, Recovery Girl wheeled herself over to her desk, returning to Hera to throw a thick packet of neatly stapled papers into her arms. Meal plans. Hera flipped through the packet, noticing that most of the meals included some form of meat, much to Hera’s annoyance. She wasn’t particularly fond of meat. She had always had a high metabolism as a kid, even when she lived with her parents. Things were hard on her back then, especially when Hera remembered the pains of hunger and the inconsistency of her meals, as her parents had blown most of their paychecks on their drug addictions. The only real meals Hera could count on were the tiny portions at her school, as she had reduced lunch fees due to her parents ‘lower income,’ or so they told her district’s Superintendent. But when Hera thought of the headaches and the dizziness and the nosebleeds, Recovery Girl’s requests seemed more than reasonable. 

“I want you to consume seven to eight thousand calories a day, and not just sugar!” the woman declared, waving a bony finger at Hera in emphasis. “You need proteins, antioxidants, vitamins and minerals in your diet. No exceptions.”

“That’s like four or five times the daily recommended calorie intake for an average adult!” Hera complained. “My foster father Sam sends me an allowance every month from America, but I can’t afford all of that food!”

“I’ve already spoken to Principal Nezu and the staff at Lunch Rush. The expenses for your food will be waived completely in accordance with your body’s unique needs due to the strain from your Quirk.” The Hero adjusted her classes then, and Hera wondered if the gesture was solely for dramatic effect. “This is non negotiable. Stick to the meal plans I’ve written out for you and do your best to take it easy - I know that’s a tall order indeed with regards to UA’s strenuous curriculum. Do all that, and you should start feeling worlds better,” the Hero cracked a smile. “I expect to see you as soon as classes let out for daily examinations, effective immediately until you’ve reached your goal weight.”

Begrudgingly, Hera agreed to the terms, thanking the woman for going to such lengths to ensure she got the proper nutrition. However, the woman in Hera promised herself that every ounce she put on from that day forward would be of muscle, instead of fat.

“You have two weeks until your next field assessment. The curriculum will be Rescue,” the Hero warned her. “Try to gain at least a little weight by then, as well as some semblance of control over your Quirk!”

Ducking behind a curtain, Hera stripped off her pajamas and pulled on her school uniform, if only to get her stuff from class and make it to her dorms. She spared Recovery Girl a final glance. 

“I won’t need two weeks,” Hera promised. “I’ll stop my rain in one.”

* * *

When Hera returned to Class 1-A to collect her things, the gathering clouds overhead had abruptly ended what had been a beautiful sunset. Gathering her books, Hera slung her bag over her shoulder, the distant sound of muffled laughter drawing her attention to the windows. Peering down, she discovered Midorya chatting animatedly with a handful of their classmates, and Hera’s chest tightened sadly at the sight of them. Perhaps it was a blessing that Hera had missed them. While it was doubtful that she would have actually killed her peers under All Might and Aizawa’s watch, the fact remained that she had undeniably put all of her friends in grave danger.

Hera paused for a moment at her sudden revelation, and she wondered when exactly she had started thinking of her fellow students as friends, but here she stood. Perhaps it was when Bakugou started to somewhat tolerate her presence, or when she could successfully hold conversations with Todoroki longer than a few short sentences, or when Ida put up that roster in class for those who wanted to give out their phone numbers so she wouldn’t feel so lonely. Maybe it was when the girls complimented her on how well their uniform suited her, even though Hera wished that she had the confidence to ditch the tights and let her scars be out in the open. 

Hera choked back tears.

Would they be afraid of her when they saw her again? Having forced the entire class to evacuate Ground Beta for their safety, could her friends truly sit next to her tomorrow like she hadn’t completely obliterated the training center? 

The gentle pattering of rain pulled Hera from her stressful thoughts, and instead she took a few slow, steadying breaths to quell her raging nerves. Returning her attention to the windows for some sort of distraction, Hera watched as her classmates parted ways with Midorya. But then the green haired boy broke into a sprint, coming to stand before Bakugou, though Midorya kept a healthy distance from the blond. The two exchanged what appeared to be a powerful bout of conversation, before Bakugou turned his back on Midorya, storming off. Midorya remained where he was.

“Those two are aging me horribly,” rasped the tired voice of Aizawa, and Hera practically jumped a foot into the air. Even her rain had broken for a few seconds in her shock. 

“Yo I really need to become more spatially aware,” Hera glared at the ceiling as if it had offended her ancestors, “especially if I let a grown man in a sleeping bag sneak up on me.” Hera pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger as a migraine began to bloom in her temples.

“That seems like a sound idea,” Aizawa agreed ruefully. Hera turned her back to the windows to face her teacher, unaware of Midorya’s eyes on them both from the school’s courtyard.

“Have you spoken with Recovery Girl?” Hera ventured, deciding honesty was the best way to deal with her homeroom teacher - and now ex teammate. It was almost impossible to discern what sort of mood the Hero was in unless he was happy, which was rare and usually at their expense. If Aizawa was happy, then the guy was an open book. 

“If this is in regards to your Quirk Suppressor and your new dietary regimen, then yes, I am aware,” Aizawa confirmed, saying nothing more. Hera waited nervously.

“...Sooo aren’t you going to chew me out for messing up?” Hera wondered out loud when he continued to say nothing. 

“I’m sure Recovery Girl has done enough of that for the both of us. There isn’t much I can tell you that you haven’t already kicked yourself for,” Aizawa told her knowingly. 

“I’m not kicking myself-” Hera began, silencing herself when Aizawa raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief.

“Then quit your moping and move on. You were aware of your lack of control concerning your Quirk, and All Might and I pushed you unknowingly. On behalf of both of us, we’re sorry. You made a mistake and you realize this: now fix it.” Aizawa moved his hand to give Hera an encouraging pat on the shoulder, soon discovering that he couldn’t because of the sleeping bag. Hera couldn’t remember the last time she laughed like that, and for a brief moment, a break in the clouds outside revealed the vibrant twilight coloring the sky.

“I guess someone else needs to work on his spatial awareness, too,” Hera cracked, praying her jest wouldn’t earn her any extra homework or a detention.


	8. Friends?

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Eight

* * *

Aizawa had mercifully granted Hera another day to complete her homework. Hera checked the time, cursing under her breath when she discovered it was just after 5:30pm. ‘ _Damn, there’s no way I’m gonna make it in time for dinner before the cafeteria closes_ ,’ Hera thought angrily, registering that she had in fact eaten only an hour and a half ago. Could yeeting her Quirk Suppressor really be affecting her metabolism so soon? The cafeteria closes at six, but she didn’t absolutely need to be back on campus and in the dorms until 8; which was plenty of time for a food run if she didn’t dick around. Hera pulled out her phone and checked her GPS, pleased to find that there were several ramen stands in the area, one with higher reviews than the others. Hera bit her lip, alarmed by how chapped they had become in the short time since she had been off her IV. Recovery Girl would kill her if she found out Hera resorted to ramen, but Hera was still hesitant to venture out into town after dark on her own. She considered calling up Kirishima to grab a bite to eat, but what if he was still working out? Or eating dinner with his family? Her mind wandered to Bakugou as a last resort, but he was in a foul enough mood on a good day. No way was she about to bug Dynamite right after his hostile interaction with Midorya. Plus, without Bakugou there, hitting up Kirishima for some dinner company would feel too much like a date. 

She hadn't the faintest idea what Todoroki was up to at this time of night, or even if he was close by, but whatever fragile bond they had formed was no doubt shattered after yesterday. Tears stung Hera's eyes then, less from wanting something good to munch on and more from her desire not to be alone with her thoughts and fears right now.

Hera sighed, supposing that the regular, shitty, instant ramen in her dorm would have to do.

Returning to her building, Hera jumped in the shower, throwing on some old dark sweats and a black hoodie. She made her way downstairs, venturing into the kitchen to boil herself some water. As she toweled dry the ends of her hair, her phone chimed once in her pocket. ‘ _Sam doesn’t usually check in with me this late_ ,’ Hera pondered curiously. She practically panicked when she looked at the caller ID and saw Kirishima’s name glowing across her screen.

**Kiri: Hey Hera, it's Kirishima! Not sure if you’re even awake yet, but everyone was super worried about you and Midorya all day. Hope by the time you see this you’re feeling better!** Hera smiled, replying to his message after her momentary panic finally subsided. 

**Hera: Thanks Kiri! I woke up not long after Midorya around two hours ago. We were both discharged around the same time. I had some catching up to do with Aizawa-sensei after missing classes today haha ^^’ He didn’t seem too pissed at me lol. I saw you guys outside talking with Midorya but um…**

**Hera: I’ll admit I wasn’t really ready to face you guys after...yesterday. Thanks for worrying about us though. You just made my night!** Kirishima replied almost immediately.

**Kiri: But you were so cool out there! I still can’t believe you took out All Might** **_twice_ ** **! If I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought you were a Pro!**

**Hera: A Pro Hero wouldn’t have destroyed the entire training grounds and put their classmates in danger.**

**Hera: Uh crap sorry…**

**Hera: Been reliving some bad memories after yesterday, that’s all.** Kirishima frowned down at his phone as he sat down heavily onto his bed, his brows knitting together in concern. ‘ _Man, she’s really beating herself up over this_ ,’ he thought to himself. 

**Kiri: Really, you were amazing, and you can only get better! I promise. He tactfully decided to change the subject. Just ate dinner with my family. We had a pasta night. It was sooo good! We had a pasta night. Have you eaten yet?**

**Hera: Just heating up some instant ramen now. Didn’t make it to the cafeteria before the kitchens closed down for the night.**

**Hera: Pasta sounds lit right now >.<** At that Kirishima instantly felt guilty.

**Kiri: Oh man we never went shopping! Aw I feel so bad right now bragging about my dinner.**

**Kiri: Sorry I didn’t know!**

**Hera: It’s all good, don’t worry about it. Besides, I’d hate to go without Bakubro lol. I did invite both of you.**

**Hera: I thought about hitting you guys up so I could make a food run today, but I saw Bakugou meet up with Midorya. I’d hate to bug him if he needs some time to cool down, ya know? He looked even more pissed off then he usually does, so I figured it was a bad time to ask.** When Hera’s phone went silent for a moment, she hoped that she killed the mood and made him walk away from his phone, but her phone trilled again after another moment.

**Kiri: What’s UA’s curfew again for the dorms?** Hera thought that the question was a bit random, but she told him anyway. 

**Kiri: Hang on I’ll be right back.** He disappeared again, but at least this time Hera had a heads up.

**Kiri: My folk’s said we’ll bring you some pasta! We have tons of leftovers. My mom always ends up cooking in mass so we always have something to heat up during the week. They’re gonna give me a ride back to campus.**

**Kiri: Is that okay with you?** Hera thought she was going to cry. 

**Hera: HELL TO THE YEAH!!!**

**Hera: I’ve never been more excited for anything in my damn life!**

**Hera: Foshizzle!** Kirishima laughed heartily, pulling on his jacket when he heard the pattering of rain upon his bedroom window. 

**Kiri: Okay haha we’ll be there soon.**

**Hera: Ok I’ve decided. I’m officially adopting you. Consider yourself my son from this day forth. (Haha I think I’m getting delirious (ok I’ll stop now lol))**

Twenty minutes later, the Kirishima’s were pulling up to the elaborate entrance to UA, where Hera was waiting outside the gates. She looked up at the sky as his parents pulled up, making a sour face at the sky as it started to drizzle. Kirishima blushed when he saw that Hera was in some loose sweats, realizing that this was only the second time he had seen her in something other than their school uniforms and track suits. But then he remembered the only other outfit he had seen her in, and when he remembered how slender and built Hera was, he fought to keep his thoughts in check. When he did another take and saw that she was only wearing slippers, Kirishima ducked out of the car with Hera’s dinner in tow, promising he’d make it quick.

Again, Hera fought back the urge to hug him.

“Dude, I owe youuuu!” Hera drooled as Kirishima laughed, passing her one of those tall bento boxes with the multiple compartments. 

“Anytime! I was just hanging around my house anyway-” Kirishima paused, his face lighting up as he peered at someone over Hera’s shoulder, wondering why he had never noticed just how short she was. “Hey! What’s up man?” Hera turned to see none other than Bakugou himself, who threw each of them a glare, but strode up to them anyway. 

“The Hell are you two doing out her in this shitty weather?” Bakugou complained, having to project his voice over the rain. Kirishima explained how Hera hadn’t made it to the cafeteria in time to grab a decent meal, so he had offered to bring her some of his family’s leftovers. Hera took in the duffel bag slung lazily over Bakugou’s shoulder, his hands buried in his pockets as he slouched grumpily. Hera had cracked a smirk, but had successfully stifled her laughter. ‘ _He must’ve returned to campus to hit the weight room or one of the other gyms to let off some steam_ ,’ Hera figured, still fighting a losing battle to keep the rain at bay; and she was starting to get a migraine. 

“Do you want a ride home, Bakugou?” Kirishima offered innocently, like the innocent boy he was. “Your place is on the way and I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind.” 

“Yeah, fuck it,” Bakugou grumbled, though it was hardly menacing. “My old hag’ll throw a fit if I’m late to dinner.”

“Sorry guys,” Hera breathed, suddenly feeling out of breath. “About the rain, I mean.”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it,” Kirishima assured, referring to yesterday at Ground Beta. Bakugou eyed Hera warily, unable to determine if the sheen on her skin was from the rain or her own sweat.

“You fucking good?” he asked her, thinking that she looked paler than usual. Hera shook her head, pointing meekly towards the sky.

“This is me…”

“Wait, you’re making it rain right now?” Kirishima exclaimed in disbelief. “Is it really okay for you to be using your Quirk again so soon?”

“It’s kind of a long story, I can text you guys later,” Hera promised Kirishima. “I don’t wanna keep your parents waiting and make Bakugou late-” Hera stopped talking when her nose started to bleed. “Oh my god, really?!” Skillfully balancing the pasta in one hand, her other flew up to cover her nose. 

“You’re bleeding!” Kirishima explained and Hera couldn’t find the energy to even roll her eyes.

“No shit Sherlock,” Bakugou quipped, his red eyes watching Hera closely, ready to catch her if she started to sway like the other morning in the gym. 

“God this is humiliating,” Hera laughed nervously, leaning away from the bento and pinching her nose between her fingers. “I guess I better get inside. Kiri, can you tell your parents I said thank you?” She left the two without saying another word, but not before she managed to create a break in the rain small enough for them to get to the car. 

* * *

By 7:30, Hera had already downed the entire container of pasta, including the fresh salad and garlic knots Kirishima’s mom was wonderful enough to throw in. As she washed the porcelain containers to return them to Kirishima tomorrow in class, Hera’s phone rang. Hastily drying her hands on a rag, she briefly wondered if it was Sam, but he usually checked in a bit earlier due to the time difference back home in America. Hera practically shit herself when she saw that it was Bakugou, forcibly shaking herself out of her shock barley in time to answer the phone. 

“About fucking time you picked up,” said asshole complained through the phone, which Hera resigned to putting on speaker, her head still aching too much to deal with her new acquaintance’s yelling so close to her ear. 

“Well hello to you too, Sunshine,” Hera deadpanned, but Bakugou could hear the smile in her voice. ‘ _Yep, definitely Dynamite._ ’

“Yeah bro, you don’t have to be so rude,” chimed the voice of Hera’s red haired son.

“Oh snap, hey Kiri,” Hera greeted. “I didn’t notice your name on the caller ID.”

“Hey, Hera!” ‘ _He’s purity incarnate_.’ “And for real, man. What if Hera decided to turn in early or something?”

Hera laughed. “Who the shit goes to bed at 7:30?” 

“Bakugou usually goes to bed around 8 every night,” Kirishima offered nonchalantly. 

“Aw he’s like a grumpy old man,” Hera teased, ignoring Bakugou as he screamed for her to fuck off over the phone. “The food was amazing by the way. Thanks again, Kiri!”

“Oh n-no problem,” answered the crimson haired cinnamon roll, who was no doubt blushing furiously right about now. 

“Hey, cut the crap shitheads,” Bakugou complained, but his steady tone of voice had Hera on edge. “Take your flirting somewhere else.”

“You called us, remember?” Hera reminded him. “And no offense, but you don’t seem like the type to waste time socializing. If you’ve got something to say, then spit it out already.” Bakugou growled.

“Why aren’t you wearing your Quirk Suppressor?” Bakugou demanded, cutting right to the chase. ‘ _Shit, nothing gets past him does it_?’ Hera steeled herself, telling them what she could.

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Hera began hesitantly. 

“Don’t worry,” Kirishima told her. “We’re not like that. You don’t even have to ask.” She never got any formal confirmation from Bakugou, but something in Hera told her he wasn’t the kind of guy who would spread other people’s business. Hera took a shaky breath.

“Recovery Girl banned me from using Suppressors entirely,” Hera explained. “I went most of my life not using my Quirk at all after...I lost control once. Recovery Girl said I need to get my body more acclimated to my power ‘or else’. The rain, the headaches, the nosebleeds, and the passing out. Ugh,” Hera complained, closing her eyes for a moment. “I feel like death right now.” 

“Yo, that’s metal,” Kirishima sympathized.

“Anything else?” Bakugou prompted.

“Yeah, actually,” Hera continued. “Recovery Girl says my metabolism is ridiculous. The woman wants me to gain like 7 kilos.” 

“The fuck?” Bakugou questioned.

“Why so much weight?” Kirishima wondered, albeit more politely than Bakugou. 

“She told me my Quirk takes a hard toll on my body and speeds up my metabolism and that I need to eat a lot more than, like, every other human my size.” Hera told them about her anemia and vitamin deficiencies, the crazy meal plans and her new daily recommended calorie intake.

“I take back what I said earlier,” Kirishima amended. “None of that is metal.”

“You’re telling me,” Hera agreed. “Yo guys, do me a favor.”

“What is it now, Short Stack?” 

“If ya’ll are free sometime can one of you spot me on the bench in the weight room? I’ve been meaning to work on my upper body strength but I need a spot-”

“Did you just fucking say ‘ya’ll’?” Bakugou asked for confirmation, but Hera didn’t need to see him to sense the shit eating grin plastering itself onto his face. Hera facepalmed audibly enough for the guys to hear the smack through the phone. 

“I grew up on a farm in America! I’m the literal living definition of a country bumpkin!” Hera laughed. “Just pray you guys never hear me speak English. I have a bit of a country accent.”

“Fucking hillbilly,” Bakugou started, and Hera knew she’d never live this down. 

“Bakugou!” Kirishima reprimanded. “You can’t just curse at a girl like that.”

“Have you heard her speak?” Bakugou chuckled darkly. “Short Stack is hardly a lady.”

“He’s not wrong, but thanks Kiri,” Hera went along. “Also with regards to the term ‘hillbilly,’ there are like no hills in Oklahoma. It’s reallllly flat there. Dude, I got all emotional when I came to Japan and saw the ocean and like mountains for the first time I legit cried. It was so lame.”

“Wait you haven’t even seen the ocean either?” Kirishima asked, astonished.

“Are you really that stupid?” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Look up Oklahoma on a map.” 

Kirishima was silent for a moment, the faint sound of keyboard clicks echoing into their call, followed by a, “Oh okay. I get it now.” Hera had laughed loud enough for both herself and for Bakugou. Hera absentmindedly checked the time.

“Well wouldja look at the time?” she tried to create a southern/country accent using Japanese, failing miserably. “It’s bitch’o’clock! Time for our spiky haired blond gramps to hit the hay, ya hear?”

“Bro,” Kirishima began, trying in vain to hold in the laughter attempting to escape him, but Bakugou was still on the line and Kirishima chose life, “that accent was terrible.”

“It’s not even worth cursing you out,” Bakugou agreed calmly enough, and Hera thought he must really be getting tired to be acting so calm. 

“I promise it sounds better in English,” Hera chuckled, resuming in her normal voice. “But like seriously, I’m dead. I think I’ll take Dynamite’s example and turn in early,” Hera yawned. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah same here,” Kirishima agreed, his yawns contagious even over the phone, but Angry Boi managed to hold his back. “Sleep well bros. Well uh, one bro and Hera.”

“But I wanna be a brooooo,” Hera whined, half drunk with sleep.

“Shut up you idiots,”Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“But we’re your idiots!” Hera and Kirishima said at the same time.

Bakugou ended the call.

* * *

Hera was still terrified to face her classmates at school, but at least her normal teenage conversation the night before with Bakugou and Kirishima eased her mind enough to get some sleep. It was the first night in a long time that Hera was able to just...sleep. Without waking up in a cold sweat after a reliving that fateful day in Haven or the ones that followed. The distant memories of search dogs barking in the distance as they searched for survivors had haunted Hera’s dreams for months. While last night had been a dreamless sleep, Hera was just grateful it had been free of her traumas or the occasional night terror.

Despite the blistering heat of summer that still clung to the early autumn weather, Hera wore her hair down like she usually did. It did well to hide the scars on the back of her neck that her uniform couldn’t fully conceal, but she brought a scrunchie just in case. At one point, Hera’s father had burned off the length of her hair for kicks, and while leaving her locks short for the sake of safety had been tempting, Hera preferred to wear it long. In a fleeting moment of insecurity, she could hide her face behind the curtains, or use them as blinders to avoid the eyes of people she didn’t want to see. 

Hera stretched as she stepped out of her dorm and into the elements, glaring at the rain because it was annoying and because she couldn’t stop it. There was some rain and lingering fog in the forecast, but where that weather ended and Hera’s Quirk began, not even she knew. She had woken up around 7:30 that morning, a little later than expected, but Hera had made it to the cafeteria in time for breakfast nonetheless. She hadn’t bothered looking in the mirror when she had washed her face, knowing what she’d see, Deep purple splotches that bloomed like bruises beneath her eyes, pale skin, a face that everyday betrayed her constant feelings of guilt. 

In the cafeteria, Hera ordered a meal straight out of Recovery Girl’s packet of meals. A salad with cheese, tomatoes, and a dressing of Hera’s choice. Two scrambled eggs and some wheat toast with cream cheese. A tall glass of orange juice with a sliced apple on the side, and a cup of strawberry greek yogurt for dessert. Surprising both herself and everyone in the entire cafeteria, Hera ate every crumb, ignoring the ignorant comments passers by would make about her getting fat. ‘ _That’s kind of my goal_ ,’ Hera had thought indignantly. Hera had eaten slowly, at first not believing that she could actually put away so much food, not wanting to make herself sick when her body wasn’t used to eating such ridiculous portions - but Hera had been fine. She would even say that she felt...really good? Still kinda shitty because her Quirk had been draining her since yesterday, but at least slightly more energized after the nutrients, and not feeling at all as if she had overeaten. Hera just felt comfortably satisfied, even light? Hera smirked to herself. ‘ _Maybe this eating thing won’t be so bad after all_.’ 

Hera studied for as long as she dared before the first bell rang, hoping to distract herself an procrastinate against the inevitable, taking her time when she packed up her things to head to class. The thought of being among the first to arrive to class had crossed her mind, if only so she wouldn’t have to face the entirety of her classmates all at once. Dragging herself to the oversized door to Classroom 1-A, but Hera’s feet rooted themselves into place. The drizzling rain outside was either adding to her nerves or served as a reflection to Hera’s inner turmoil, but who could be sure which?

“Well, are you going in or not?” echoed the voice of Aizawa, who was just arriving himself, sleeping bag and all. “I have a class to start.” His bloodshot eyes widened a fraction when he saw that Hera was shaking.

“What if they’re afraid of me?” Hera said in a small voice that hardly sounded like her own. “Or angry I lied to all of them about my Quirk?” 

“Have some faith in your classmates,” Aizawa assured her. After taking a shaky breath to steel her uneasiness, Hera burst through the door, leaving Aizawa out in the hallway. She bowed to her peers, fumbling over her words as she fought against her own anxieties to apologize to all in the room. Aizawa sighed, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth all the same. 

“I owe all of you an apology,” Hera projected, forcing her voice not to shake as she stood up from her bow to meet each of their gazes. Of evryone in the room, Hera pointedly avoided Todoroki’s eyes, afraid of what she’d find in them when she looked. She probably lied to him the most, about her Quirk when she was looking for the best material for her Hero Costume, and how she really got into UA. But Hera knew that Todoroki wasn’t stupid, and was sure to notice how she avoided his gaze. Even after all of the moments she stretched the truth to cover her ass, Todoroki had opened up to her anyway and given Hera more than just the time of day. Her next words were geared towards the room, but they were tailored to reach him the most. If he decided to forgive her, Hera would be grateful, but if he decided she didn’t deserve a second chance, then that was okay too. 

“I have been deceiving all of you, and for that I’m sorry. My Quirk is not just a wind Quirk, as you all are well aware by now. I can manipulate certain elements and variables in the atmosphere simply with my will, and completely control the weather. This included my ability to command bolts of lightning, although I am not immune to electricity. However, I have built up a moderate tolerance to certain levels of voltage. The International Quirk Registry has officially identified my affinity for the sky as a Weather Quirk.” Ida spoke up then, having done well to remain patiently awaiting his chance to speak while Hera said her peace.

“Why go through all the trouble to hide this information from us?” Ida spoke up for the room. “We’re your classmates and fellow Heroes in training! Even someone such as Bakugou should prove capable of swallowing his own pride long enough to lend you an ear if you truly needed it!” Hera only smirked at said blond knowingly, but gave nothing away, and Bakugou wondered briefly just what other secrets she could be hiding, but he still found the energy to tell Ida to fuck off. 

“I have my reasons,” Hera shared solemnly. “Something happened back in my country when I was first discovering my Quirk, and that something could end my Hero career before it even starts. I realize that all of this sounds super sketchy, and I’m willing to tell you guys what I can when we have the time, but just know that there are just some things that I can’t talk about.” Hera felt a wave of dizziness, praying to whatever god that cared to listen to her woes to keep her nosebleed at bay, at least until she was finished. “Every single one of you has the rite to be upset with me. I won’t ask for your forgiveness, or for a second chance,” Hera bowed deeply again, and both she and Aizawa awaited the class’s reaction with baited breath.

“Well if that is all, then I suppose a second chance is reasonable,” Momo spoke up, as if Hera’s confession was little more than good gossip. “Though it never occurred to me that you were capable of hiding something of this magnitude.”

“Yeah, I though you were just weird,” Sero blurted. “N-No offense!”

“Nonetaken,” Hera managed, not quite settled enough to let herself laugh just yet.

“I love a hottie with an angsty backstory!” Mineta drooled, and all of 1-A were shocked when Tsuyu had launched a fairly large textbook at the pervert’s head with terrifying precision. Hera let her peers take turns saying their peace, but even the emotions of those who kept quiet had felt positive when she observed their expressions. In only a few weeks, these strangers had become like family to her, and Hera felt herself tearing up at the thought of losing the trust of even one of them - namely Todoroki. 

“Also um...I”M SORRY FOR ALMOST KILLING YOU GUYS THE OTHER DAY AND DESTROYING GROUND BETA!!!!!” Hera blurted. 

After a few tense seconds, Class 1-A erupted into peels of riotous laughter, and Hera could feel the moment when they had forgiven her, though she still didn’t quite have the courage to face Todoroki. Aizawa eventually decided to make his presence known, barking orders and ordering Hera to take her seat. This was almost as bad as her first day, but also somehow better.


	9. Adjusting

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Ten

* * *

The rest of the day passed just as awkwardly, with Hera expecting ridicule and scorn from her classmates, then not knowing how to react when everyone was nothing but supportive instead. Once Lunch Rush finally rolled around, Hera was  _ ready _ for that food, but also not ready for it? ‘It’ specifically being her newest growing anxiety, i.e. her embarrassment for her friends’ reactions to the shear amount of food she could put away. Her hunger had certainly kicked it up a notch - or like ten notches - since she’d been forced to relinquish her Suppressor. Maybe all of the side effects should have been expected, considering her Quirk was literally spilling out of her and causing it to rain since she woke up yesterday. 

Hera’s headaches had come and gone throughout the morning with each simultaneous wave of rain, and it was almost like a tide going in and out . If she tried to focus too much on keeping the weather clear, then it would only exhaust her and lessen her stamina. However, if her attention strayed entirely to the lectures or in taking notes, then the downpours would sneak up on her. Hera found herself dancing upon the thin tightrope that was her self control, and then pouring rain would come relentlessly. The loudest time was in Present Mic’s class. When the rain eventually bloomed into a steady roar, both Bakugou and Kirishima had thrown Hera worried glances, mouthing to her if she was okay. Hera had just given them a hand gesture that told them she was so-so, before her nose betrayed her again and began to bleed. Cursing under her breath, Hera tried to duck behind Momo, but Present Mic had seen the blood. 

“Whoa, I guess they don’t call the upper seating the nosebleed section for no reason!” Mic had boomed, pointing at Hera and blowing up her spot. In seconds, the whole class’ eyes were on her. 

“Uh yeah, just a side effect from my Quirk,” Hera laughed nervously, wishing desperately to be anywhere else, her voice slightly muffled behind her hands. “Sorry for the show guys. Mic-sensei, may I please go wash up in the restroom?”

“Alright, but if it doesn’t stop soon then I’m sending you to the nurses office!” Mic allowed.

“Deal,” Hera sighed. When some of the blood started running down her elbow, Momo materialized a towel from her chest and handed it to Hera in time to save her uniform. “Thanks Mo, you’re a goddess.” Todoroki looked at Hera with concern, thinking that the amount of blood she was losing was abnormal, and frowning slightly when she still avoided his eyes.

“Yaoyorozu, maybe you should go with her,” Todoroki recommended, and Momo was quick to get the permission from Mic, who was watching everything unfold from his desk at the front of the class. 

“God this is humiliating,” Hera blushed as she stood up from her seat and Momo guided her out of the room, Momo’s hands on her shoulders to keep her steady. As they exited the class, Hera turned her back on Todoroki. The second they were out of earshot, Hera confided in Momo.

“May I ask you something?’ Hera ventured meekly, still feeling dizzy. 

“Of course,” Momo replied gently, reaching under her skirt to materialize a small stool out of her thigh for Hera to sit on. “What is it?” 

“Do you think Todoroki is angry with me about the Quirk thing?” Hera asked in her small face as her temples pounded, fighting to keep the tears at bay. “He seemed worried about me just now, but I just...I can’t bring myself to look at him. I feel like such a dumbass. I couldn’t even make myself meet his eyes during my apology this morning,” her voice broke as tears spilled down her face. Momo gently draped an arm over her shoulder to offer at least some form of comfort as she took the liberty of creating some pocket tissues as well, deciding the rough paper towels in the restroom would be too harsh on Hera’s nose. 

“I’ve seen him angry, and believe me, you’ll know when he’s upset with you,” Momo assured her, rubbing soothing circles in between Hera’s shoulder blades while Hera washed her face and tried to remember how to breathe. “I know it might seem scary, but maybe try asking him? Todoroki seems like the type of person who appreciates a more direct approach. You were brave enough to apologize to the entire class today! Talking to your friend shouldn’t be nearly as difficult,” Momo encouraged. 

“If I was actually brave then I wouldn’t have avoided making simple eye contact with him,” Hera kicked herself as she began the task of stuffing rolled up tissues up her nose in attempt to halt the bleeding. “Who's to say I wasn’t just trying to clear my guilty conscious today?” 

“That’s not true. You and I both know that,” momo told her sternly. “It looks like the blood is stopping. Let me know when you’re ready to head back.”

“I hate to ask since you’ve already made me so much already, but can you make me a face mask? I don’t wanna show up to class looking like I just lost a fight.”

“No problem!” Momo more than happily accommodated, always jumping at any chance to practice using her own Quirk. 

“I appreciate your help with this,” Hera told her earnestly, grateful that even though her ego wasn’t spared that her uniform was. “Really, thanks, Mo.” After donning her new mask and washing her hands, the two made their way back to Present Mic’s classroom. Assuring Mic that she was fine, Hera tried to ignore the returned to their seats. In the corner of her eye Hera could faintly see Todoroki’s head turn to face her as she walked briskly past his seat and into her own. 

Present Mic continued for the lesson, when a warm gust of wind and a few weak embers floated a folded piece of paper onto her desk. Hera thought for a moment that she might throw up. Throwing away any attempts at stealthily jumping out of the window, Hera ripped open the note before her courage left her. 

_ Are you alright _ ? - _ Shoto  _

Biting her lip, Hera bought the bullet and replied, not knowing how she felt about him giving her his first name. To an American being on a first name basis with someone your own age was nothing special, but to the Japanese it was a privilege more typically earned than taken. 

_ Sorry I’m avoiding you. I feel like I’ve lied to you the most out of everyone in our class. I’m a coward and I get it if you’re upset with me _ . Hera debated using her own wind to flick the note back to him, but thought it better of it. With her luck she’d wreck the whole classroom. 

_ I am not angry with you _ . Hera bit her lip and glared at the front board as if it had orchestrated her inner turmoil, thankful that this was only English because she wouldn’t be learning a damn thing today.

_ So are we...okay _ ?

_ Of course. I’ll see you at lunch, granted you don’t sit next to that delinquent _ . Hera smiled, glad that they were back to easy.

And granted that you don’t mind my new eating habits. Also, Bakugou’s an ass but if you learn to take his attitude with a grain of salt he isn’t so bad. He’s just a big softy putting up a front because he’s insecure, like any bully.

_ I’ll believe that when I see it. Also what do you mean about new eating habits _ ?

_ You’ll see~ ^^ _

At Lunch Rush, Todoroki soon learned what Hera had meant.

* * *

Later the next day, news that All might had become a teacher at UA had finally spread. After spending a good part of her morning dodging the media, everyone in Class 1-A was exhausted and annoyed. It was literally all Hera could do just to make it to class on time. 

“Oh hey, Hera!” Jiro waved her over. “Did the press harass you too?” Hera only laughed wickedly, shaking her head darkly and throwing up a peace sign. “I obviously look like a foreigner, so I just pretended I couldn’t speak much Japanese,” she chuckled maniacally. “When the reporters started arguing amongst themselves about how UA would ever allow someone with shit Japanese skills to attend their school, I snuck past them all and slipped into campus.”

“That was pretty cunning of you,” Tsuyu commented. “But was it really okay to just lie to the public like that? It could come back to haunt you.”

“Eh, no more than the rest of my ghosts,” Hera muttered under her breath. “I guess old habits die hard,” was all she audibly added, before Aizawa shuffled into the room and anyone had the chance to question what she had meant. 

The next few days soon blended into a week, and Hera had finally succeeded in keeping most of her rain at bay, just like she promised Recovery Girl. Although she couldn’t disperse all of the clouds overhead, she found that distracting herself with things like homework or working out helped a great deal. When classes ended for the day, Hera would stop by the infirmary for her daily checkups, before meeting up with her peers to exercise. She studied by night, but even after a week in a half of her new routine, Hera had only managed to gain a little over a pound. Recovery Girl had once questioned Hera if her teeth or jaw were sore at all due to the magnitude of food that she was now consuming, but Hera had announced that she felt fine. Recovery Girl took x-rays of Hera’s mouth and jaw, astonished when she discovered Hera’s bones in her jaw and teeth had hardened almost as much as diamonds. It was almost as if Hera’s body had adapted overnight to her strange new eating habits - luckily for Hera. 

While her nosebleeds had lessened in frequency, Hera had opted for less intensive workouts, instead turning her focus to weights and strength training, hitting the gym every other day with Bakugou and Kirishima when she wasn’t exercising with everyone else. Today was the first day in almost two weeks since Hera had attempted to do any cardio, and had accepted Momo’s offer to join her and the others for a light jog on the turf. Accompanying them were Mina, Uraraka, Shoji, Sato and Tokoyami. Hera’s mile time - she had used a mile because she still didn’t quite comprehend kilometers - had been absolute shit, increasing from her usual eight minutes to almost eleven. 

Finishing a full lap behind everyone else, Hera saw black spots in her vision, her breathing labored as she collapsed dramatically onto the turf like a starfish. Worriedly, her classmates surrounded Hera in a loose circle as she fought to catch her breath, their concerns only deepening when the clouds overhead darkened and it started to drizzle. 

“Maybe you should go to the infirmary,” one of the guys suggested - Sato? - Hera couldn’t tell, and that was about when the world around her began to tilt and blur. She agreed warily, swallowing whatever was left of her pride at this point and asking for help, not positive she could stand up on her own. Halfway across the campus, Hera actually fainted, prompting Shoji to carry her the rest of the way. In the infirmary was Todoroki, who sat shirtless on one of the gurneys while Recovery Girl tended to a few minor burns on his right arm. The Hero dropped everything when she saw that Hera was unconscious, the rain outside remaining at a steady drizzle. 

“Lay her down over there,” Recovery Girl commanded Shoji while she readied a bag of O Positive blood, pointing to the bed opposite Todoroki. 

“Wait, what’s all that for?” Mina exclaimed worriedly as Recovery Girl wasted no time in sterilizing Hera’s arm, before carefully pushing a rather large needle into her veins. 

“Hera is extremely anemic,” was all Recovery Girl told them, before ushering everyone out into the hallway until Hera came to, leaving only Todoroki. “In all my years I have never met someone so incredibly iron deficient - apart from rare cases where an individual’s bone marrow is only partially functioning.” The woman turned to Todoroki. “Sorry hun, I’ll finish up with you once I’m through tending to trouble over here,” she told him, checking Hera’s vitals once more.

“Take all the time you need, I am in no rush,” Todoroki assured the woman, watching as some of the color started to return to Hera’s limp form, and then his classmate began to breathe a little easier. “Was it simply anemia, or was her Quirk to blame?” 

“A bit of both I’m afraid,” Recovery Girl admitted. “The girl’s made incredible progress over the last two weeks since I forced her off of her Quirk Suppressor, but Miss Gale has been pushing herself too hard too fast. If she keeps this up, her training won’t get anywhere. What’s the point in trying to progress if overexerting yourself just gets you thrown back into a hospital bed?” the woman ranted. 

“...If I promise to take it easy, can I avoid listening to all of that again?” croaked Hera, who was awake for the better part of the conversation. Her remark only earned her another lecture and a hard slap to the back of her head, as well as a chuckle from Todoroki. Hera dozed in and out while she waited aimlessly for her arm to finish depleting the bag of blood, and Recovery Girl finished tending to Todoroki. When the Hero announced that he was free to leave, Todoroki hung around, pulling out a textbook to study and claiming one of the seats by the door. By the time Hera was reluctantly released, Todoroki had finished nearly all of his homework. Through the curtains lining her bed, Todoroki made out Hera’s thin form as she stretched. Hera came around the corner, blinking in surprise when she discovered Todoroki in the entrance, looking for all in the world like he owned the place.

“Oh hey,” Hera laughed nervously. “I didn’t know you were still here. How are your burns?”

“Already healed. Recovery Girl saw to that,” Todoroki told her monotonically. Hera subconsciously grasped her wrist in one hand behind her back, wincing when she remembered the IV that was just in the same arm. Todoroki was at her side in an instant, taking her school bag and slinging it over his shoulder with in his own, his free hand gently taking her throbbing wrist in his own and lightly thumbing away her pain.

“That’s a pretty bad habit,” he reprimanded her calmly, before releasing her wrist and leading them to the cafeteria, knowing Hera hadn’t eaten. She was usually quick to protest whenever anyone tried to help her with things, no matter how small, but instead Hera accepted the help without a word. ‘ _ She really must be out of it _ ,’ Todoroki thought to himself, deciding not to redirect the conversation just yet. “I see how you grip your wrists under the tables whenever you’re stressed out over something. If you’re not careful you might bruise.”

“I’ll um...” Hera blinked anxiously, having not expected his sudden concern and not quite knowing what to do with it. “...I’ll try not to do it as much in the future...if I catch myself doing it,” she promised. Damn, did she really do it so often that even Todoroki had noticed?

“You should probably text everyone later tonight,” Todoroki suggested while they were eating. “They were pretty worried about you.”

“Yeah, I promise I will,” Hera told them, and soon the two fell into a comfortable silence as they ate. She had never tried cold soba before, and Todoroki demonstrated how to eat it. She soon became a quick fan of it. Todoroki watched over her as she ate, finding himself oddly drawn to Hera the more and more he got to know her. If it had been any other guy, some may find his feelings towards Hera romantic, but Todoroki honestly just enjoyed her company, plain and simple. 

She was honest in every situation where she could be, she was awkward but still good at making friends - even with Bakugou of all people, and she was kind. The thought of losing the trust of her peers had terrified Hera, but she fought through her fears and faced them all head on instead of hiding or running away. If Todoroki was being honest with himself, he wished that he could be more like Hera.

He walked her back to the dorms and returned her bag, before biding her goodnight and bracing himself to face his own family, but something about spending the evening with Hera gave him the courage to do it.

* * *

A few days later Aizawa announced that they would finally be heading out to the USJ to try their hands at some rescue training in different environments. Hera had dozed off on Jiro’s shoulder, having stayed up late cramming for a test the night before. The weather had been sunny and clear, even as she had slept. While Aizawa had noted the dark circles beneath Hera’s eyes, he filed it all away and decided to wait and watch to see how she fared, just like the rest of his students. He of all people knew the priceless value of sleep, and Aizawa allowed his student the chance at what was likely some much required rest. 

Little did any of them know how much Hera would need it.


	10. Turbulence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yo I'm blessed to still be working right now with all the craziness in the world, but if only for my own sanity with as stressful as shit has been lately I made the time to crank out this chapter. I hope ya'll can kick back for this piece and distract yourselves from this Pandemic and breathe a little. Stay safe guys! 
> 
> Good vibes from Florida!

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Ten

Ida was at his best that morning, over stressing about things as minor as what order their class had boarded the bus, his plans only to be foiled by a coach with an open layout. Deciding early on that she’d had enough of all of the excitement - and the noise - Hera opted for a power nap instead of socializing. She popped in some earbuds and put on some quiet music in an attempt to relax. She soon fell asleep on Jiro, sleeping soundly until her friend gently shook her awake at the USJ. Everyone filed off the bus unceremoniously, and Present Mic seemed all too overjoyed to leave the rowdy teens with his sleep deprived colleague.

Aizawa had led them all inside the building and introduced them to the Rescue Hero Thirteen. The Pro Hero had been well informed and bubbly - almost sickeningly so - and an all around great human being, 10/10 in Hera’s book. That’s about where the good vibes ended. A deep purple-black fog materialized not far in the field below them, and soon dozens of people started filtering in, some less human looking than others. The moment the intruders got their bearings, they started making their way towards the students. Aizawa ordered all of his students to stay back, informing everyone that this was real, and that the people closing in on them from below were real Villains. Real criminals that wouldn’t hesitate to attack a minor.

Hera and her peers furiously attempted to process what was happening around them, Deku analyzing his every panicked thought out loud. After commanding Thirteen to protect the students, Aizawa wasted no time in jumping into action. She and everyone else only had about two minutes to watch their teacher leap into action, only to look on in horror as Bakugou and Kirishima blindly attacked the Villain cloaked in the purple fog, in turn preventing Thirteen from protecting them. As a direct result, their class was separated, thrown into blinding caves of fog that looked akin to black holes, scattering them across the USJ.

When the black mist finally cleared from her vision, Hera was surrounded by fire and crumbling buildings. She was alone, and surrounded by around twenty Villains, each appearing to have some sort of fire Quirk, or muscled bodies that made them resistant to flames and heat.

It was weird, too. Instead of feeling afraid for herself, or worrying for her friends, an eerie sense of calm washed over Hera. This wasn’t the first time she was ever backed into a corner with the promise of a beating, and Hera thought of her parents. What she was experiencing in that very moment was familiar, the sickening twist in her gut of anticipation, as adrenaline flooded through her veins like the bursting of a dam. It was the sharp intake of breath as she braced for her father’s electricity, or the strike of her mother’s beer bottles over her skull.

If clouds had started to gather overhead within the dome of the USJ, then Hera couldn’t see them past all of the smoke. But she didn’t need to see them, because she could sense the instability in the atmosphere, even if it did feel a little off. Perhaps it was due to the lack of moisture in her immediate atmosphere. Or maybe it was all of the fire, Hera had no idea, but she could sense…..something. Something big and something that was different and off in some way, but Hera couldn’t quite figure it out. All she could do was take note of the difference in the air around her and be wary of it, because the Villains around her were starting to close in.

There wasn’t any time to worry about Aizawa or her peers, because now she was dodging hits powerful enough to kill her, and Quirk made projectiles, and fire, and it was all she could do to keep a healthy distance between herself and the chaos erupting all around her. Backflipping out of the way from a thug that had literal blades for arms, Hera used the momentum she gained from all the motion to dropkick a scrawny reptile looking guy with a knife, disarming him and knocking the wind out of him. While he fought to breathe and get his bearings enough to get off the ground, Hera dove for his knife, breaking his hand with a hard stomp from her leather boots.

In spite of the shear mayhem and the odds that were so heavily up against her, Hera found herself sadly cracking a smile. She had no idea how at ease she would feel in the heat of combat, and her chest tightened painfully when she thought of all of the events and traumas that likely led her to such a point. But her mind was clear, and unfortunately for these lowlifes, Hera was really, really good with knives.

Her eyes narrowed when she spotted a woman wielding a gun locking onto her, so she wasted no time in launching the knife so hard into the air that her shoulders had actually cracked in protest. ‘ _Perhaps I should have stretched first_ ,’ Hera thought ruefully. The projectile had hit its target, plunging into the offending woman’s wrist. Dodging another onslaught of attacks, Hera tumbled over to the woman, swiftly disarming her while she screamed profanities and clutched her hand. Not as skilled with guns, Hera fired six rounds into the ground, only satisfied once the barrel of the weapon was empty, but at least firing an actual firearm got the bastards to back off a little.

Using the butt of the gun, Hera smashed it into the nose of a burly goat-looking guy coming at her from her left, promptly knocking him out. As the man toppled upon her unconscious, Hera utilized his limp body as a shield. Waiting for a pause in the projectiles to cast the man aside, she surprised two Villains who hadn’t seen her in time. She hadn’t once allowed herself to summon any lightning, because what would she do if she actually killed someone, including her classmates? Hera shuddered at the thought. Her mind flashed to the barking of the rescue dogs who had aided in the search parties after that fateful day in Haven, their silence when they failed to locate the victims in time. The echoes of their barks still haunted her whenever she closed her eyes.

It was funny, though, that Hera hadn't heard their howls in her dreams even once since she had started at UA. Hera shook her head and forced the thoughts away.

If she couldn’t use her lighting, or her rain with all of this fire, then Hera’s only safe bet was her wind, so long as she didn’t fan the flames into anything bigger. Backflipping out of their range, Hera decided to aim for the long range fighters, glad to get them out of the way and knowing she could likely handle the rest of them without much reliance on her Quirk. That is, if the rest of them were as terrible at hand to hand combat as their comrades had been. The Villains had been hesitant at first, feeling her out while they fought to determine just what the hell her Quirk was, which was another reason why Hera was primarily sticking with hand to hand. But after one dude who seemed to be the ringleader made a few hand gestures, the fifteen or so assholes that were left were done hesitating, charging Hera all at once.

Their mistake.

As it turns out, Hera can in fact create extreme weather conditions inside a building, or at least inside one as large as the USJ. This phenomenon apparently included fire tornadoes. Go figure. Although Hera didn’t quite know how she was accomplishing this, she used what little grasp she had on this new ability to will the vortex to orbit around her. She didn’t have the time to consider whether or not the Fire Zone was affecting her abilities, but between the demon tornado from hell and her usual gusts, Hera was untouchable.

Unwilling to let the fire vortex loose on the Villains due to the very real chance it could actually kill a few of them, Hera opted instead to blast away any and all of her adversaries who were absolutely mesmerized by the rapidly rotating pillar of flames with her typical wind gusts, ones which thankfully enough did not catch fire.

When the majority of her opponents were either knocked into the surrounding buildings or fighting to get their bearings, Hera bolted down the first alley she laid her eyes on, not bothering to look behind her to see if the tornado was dissipating. That she could feel. Her head spinning from a combination of overusing of her Quirk and lack of oxygen, Hera knew she was running out of time. A few moments ago she was worried about her peers, but after exhausting herself on what was probably only a few of the many groups of Villains lurking within the USJ, Hera could only pray that the next person she ran into was a friend.

* * *

On the other side of the Fire Zone was Ojiro, who was facing about the same number of thugs that Hera had. Although he didn’t have a Quirk that aided in breathing in smoke filled air, or something to prevent him from getting severely burned should he come into direct contact with flames, Ojiro’s tail granted him far more mobility than his foes. He used this to his advantage, skillfully launching his body from building to building to both attack and to defend, his tail springing him out of range as he faced a barrage of offensive Quirks like he had never seen. It wasn’t until Ojiro dropped the unconscious body of the final Villain that he was finally able to take in his surroundings because holy shit there was a fire tornado like a few city blocks away from him?!

Allowing himself to feel conflicted for only a moment, Ojiro leaped and barreled towards the pillar of flames on the off chance that it was one of his classmates, Hera among the first to come to mind. And there she was. He found Hera doubled over in an alley struggling to breathe, holding a handkerchief against her mouth and nose in a feudal attempt to prevent inhaling all of the smoke. But Ojiro’s relief was short lived, because two Villians cornered Hera into said alley, leaving her with no means of escape - except through them.

Ojiro hung above them, careful not to reveal his position until he felt he had no choice, and readying to strike, but Hera attacked first. Raising her arm weakly, Hera blew both of the Villains out of the alley and across the street, fighting to get back onto her feet. That was when Ojiro decided to step in. Landing powerfully in front of Hera, Ojiro watched his classmate visibly flinch and raise her free arm in defense, before a combination of realization and relief flashed across her face.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Ojiro coughed, before telling Hera to climb on his back so he could get her out of the Fire Zone. Hera nodded weakly in agreement. Even with his hands occupied carrying Hera, Ojiro could always launch them out of the way if they got jumped again, though he was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back,” Ojiro had reassured Hera, smiling heroically and sharing an assuring look with her over his shoulder.

His eyes widening in shock was the only warning Hera had that something was about to hit them, because an actual fucking dinosaur guy with wings came out of thin air. On his back was a normal looking guy with a crowbar, but Hera hadn’t seen any of this, because all she could register next was being hit in the head **_hard_**.

The two freshmen had been knocked out of the sky mid-leap, tumbling violently onto the cracked asphalt two stories below them. Ojiro had remembered all of that, but Hera must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because all she remembered was opening her eyes with a splitting headache on the ground, her body sore from an impact she wasn’t even awake for. She had only come to for about eight seconds before she was struck in the head again, this time blacking out for several minutes.

The last thing she remembered was Ojiro being clubbed down by three guys armed with pipes and a metal baseball bat, before she received another shattering blow to the head.

* * *

Tokoyami and Koji were faring well enough in the Squall Zone, with Koji acting as the bait while Tokoyami took their assailants by surprise. Once their immediate area was clear of Villains, the two decided to head towards the Entrance, hoping to reunite with their peers. The Squall Zone was situated next to the Shipwreck Zone. There had been traces of a battle and a sinking ship they could only pray none of their classmates had been aboard, but Ojiro's furious screams of agony were what directed them to the Fire Zone.

Nothing could have prepared Tokoyami and Koji for what they would find once they finally broke free of the wind and rain.

Hera and Ojiro were being bludgeoned by half a dozen Villains, a few losing their tempers and kicking Hera when she failed to respond to their tortures. Ojiro was an almost unrecognizable mess of mangled limbs and gaping gashes, while a growing puddle of blood pooled around Hera’s head as she lay motionless.

Tokoyami and Koji reacted immediately, Dark Shadow enveloping the former in his fury, taking out the Villains with a tempered rage while Koji fled to the sides of their wounded classmates. Tokoyami pleaded for Koji to tend to their friends while he fought to calm Dark Shadow, which ended up taking a few precious minutes. When Tokoyami was eventually able to rejoin his friends, Koji was searching for something - anything - they could use as bandages, coming up with nothing until Tokoyami offered up his cloak, using Dark Shadow to shred the material into strips. The duo decided it best to use Dark Shadow to carry Hera and Ojiro, unknowing when the two would wake and doubting they could carry their friends all the way to the Entrance should they be ambushed again.

* * *

Oblivious to the dire circumstances unfolding in other areas of the arena, Bakugou was having the time of his life. Sure he may have kicked himself for fucking up and getting in Thirteen’s way at the Entrance. He even let slip to Kirishima that he had faith in their classmates to handle themselves, even if he didn’t say so in as many words. But then he and Kirishima kicked some Villain ass and made their way towards the Entrance, unaware of just what the Hell they would walk in on.

All Might injured and struggling against some ugly monster that could take each of his incredible punches, that Warp bastard threatening to sever the Hero’s body with his Gates. Their classmates he once called Extras, huddling together, both in fear and for safety in numbers. All of which were in various states of health, some barely bruised while others fighting for their lives, their teacher included.

It was when Bakugou’s eyes landed on Hera that Kirishima readied his own stance, waiting tensely as his angry friend poised as if to spring into action. But at least this time Bakugou had the presence of mind to throw Kirishima a curt nod before he acted, Kirishima returning the gesture in a silent “ _I got your back_ , ” no matter what transpired next.


	11. The Stuff of Nightmares

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Eleven

A migraine, a skull-splitting headache, shear agony; all of these were only loose terms that couldn’t begin to describe the crippling pain now assaulting Hera’s senses. The intensity of the pain around the back of her head confirmed two things. One, that she definitely had a severe concussion, and two, that she was still alive. Hera had survived enough minor concussions dealt to her by her parents to understand that this one was likely more serious. So she braced herself for the light that was about to offend and overwhelm her dulled senses, and slowly opened her eyes.

Waking up in Shoji’s arms, Hera’s first conscious thoughts drifted back to that blow she received to the head, which must have been worse than she initially surmised if she was just now waking up, and on the other side of the USJ. While she fought against the pull of sleep, Hera tried to organize her thoughts and analyze the current situation. A few of their classmates were situated atop the stairs nearest the Entrance, which was where she found herself now.

“Fill me in,” Hera croaked, her throat dryer than she thought it would be. “What happened while I was out.”

It was Sero who informed her that she had been out for about twenty minutes or so. Shoji helped to carefully sit her up, Hera failing to suppress a wince when her ribs protested. It was then that she noticed the bandages haphazardly wrapped around her head. She must have been bleeding a lot for her classmates to have used so much material, which Hera learned was a combination of Tokoyami’s cape and Sero’s elbow tape.

She knew that she needed to take it easy to prevent further agitating her injuries, but when everyone’s attention seemed to be below them at the base of the staircase, Hera followed their gazes to the desperate scene playing out before them. Through blurry vision and dulled hearing, Hera could make out several key things.

Todoroki and Midorya were standing in the thick of it all, where before them was All Might and a Nomu, whose bodies were each distorted through several of Fog Bastard’s Warp Gates. Todoroki’s presence certainly explained why the Nomu was half frozen. And the Symbol of Peace, the Number One Hero, their kind hearted teacher who clammed up in front of a classroom of teenagers - appeared to be gravely injured.

Not far from them were Bakugou and Kirishima. Bakugou was pinning down that Fog Bastard by the metal of his neck armor while Kirishima stood at his friend’s side, alert and ready for anything. Standing on the other side of it all was the man with pale blue hair covered in replicas of hands, calmly watching it all go down.

‘Fucker must be the ringleader of these bastards,’ Hera thought angrily to herself. As if sensing her dangerous train of thought, Shoji informed Hera that said guy with the hands had a hand in helping the Nomu mess up Aizawa. Hera cracked her neck and took a shaky breath as deep as she could manage with her broken ribs. No matter how much she wanted blood and to avenge her teacher, this was not the time to lose herself to her emotions. She knew that she needed to remain calm and think as rationally as possible.

Hera’s gaze mentally dissected the Nomu. If the thing was genetically created in a lab to take out All Might himself, then the Villains were either damned good at bluffing, or confident enough in their abomination to make such a claim. This also meant that these idiots had access to an actual lab, and that this little gathering wasn’t just an untrained group of thugs - despite how poorly they fought in combat - but a full-fledged organization. Their Nomu had to prove at least as sturdy as All Might, if not more so due to whatever the shit it was jacked up on, which meant that it wouldn’t be so easily defeated, especially since All Might was injured. If the thing was built to take on All Might, then one good hit could prove deadly.

Pushing her analytics aside, Hera focused on her breathing, staying conscious, and aware enough to summon her Quirk. The reason she trained so diligently in hand to hand combat was because her Quirk was more suited from mid to long range attacks. But knowing this, what kind of a Villain would willingly give her a few moments to collect herself and conjure up a tornado?

Aware of this weakness, Hera brought her mind back to the present, reminding herself that while she was currently down for the count in terms of close combat, she was surrounded by her friends, and therefore still able to help while they protected her. When the beginnings of clouds began to gather and swirl in the upper sky of the dome, Todorki, Midorya, Bakugou and Kirishima exchanged knowing glances. None of them had to see Hera to know what was about to happen.

“Yo is she really alright to be using her Quirk like this?” Kirishima asked in a hushed voice to Bakugou, purposely not using their friend’s name in case Warp Bastard made to go after her. In response, Bakugou only tightened his hold on Fog Guy’s throat.

“No fucking way,” Bakugou growled, hoping it would mask his worry and the sick feeling building in his gut. “She’s just gonna pass out again, and we don’t need her help.”

This also happened to be the second that the damn Nomu finally decided to pull itself free from the Warp Gates, shattering Todoroki’s ice as if it were sugar glass. In the same millisecond that the thing locked its gaze on Bakugou, whether with intent to save its comrade or kill Hera didn’t care which, she acted first. Luckily for Bakugou, lightning was faster than the Nomu.

With a deafening crackle of light and power, Hera’s lightning had brought the Nomu to its knees, giving All Might the opportunity he needed to get Bakugou and Kirishima out of harm’s way.

Hera glared at the Nomu as a shockwave that had been meant for Bakugou shook the walls of the USJ as if they were made of paper. Her stamina be damned, Hera forced her body to keep the lightning coming. She knew that she needed to do as much damage as she could before the Nomu could regenerate, even if all she won was a few seconds while the Nomu tried to heal itself. She knew that the delay would be enough to give All Might another opening, this time to get some hits in.

Her efforts only seemed to further annoy Uncle Bad Touch at the base of the Arena, who began furiously scratching at his neck and arms as he futily tried to identify just who among them was creating the lightning. Powerful electric type Quirks were common enough, but only a handful of weather related Quirks had been recorded in modern times. Who knew UA would be harboring a student with a Quirk of such caliber?

Keeping a good poker face despite the shooting pains of exhaustion surging throughout her aching muscles, Hera ignored the alarms her body was ringing. She couldn’t stop, not when she was so close to bringing this guy down… After a grand total of seven more bolts, Hera collapsed back onto Shoji. In the distance Hera swore she could make out the sound of gunshots.

For a moment Hera couldn't even find it in herself to panic. If this was the end then shit it was a crazy ride, but at least she had gone down swinging. Hera was only upset that she never got the chance to throw a little good into the world before she died. She regretted not being able to save lives, even it was only to clear her own conscience. She would never get to thank Sam for all that he had done for her, or avenge the deaths of her parents and those nienteen people using the same Quirk that had killed them. 

But then out of nowhere Hera could faintly make out the distinct cries of relief from her classmates. The Heroes had arrived, the gunshots were from a Hero, not their newest threat. It was only once she knew for certain that they were all going to survive that Hera finally let her body give out on her.

* * *

All Might had partaken in a historic battle that would take a greater toll on his body than most present could ever realize. Once the Nomu was defeated, the Heroes sprung into action, prompting the Villains who were somehow still standing to retreat into a Warp Gate. Some students fell victim to the overwhelming relief and became frozen in shock, exhaustion hitting them like a ton of bricks for those who had overused their Quirks. These were the students who chose to regroup with one another, just thankful to be alive.

Others who had unluckily found themselves thrown into more combat were still victims to their own adrenaline, sensitive to every movement in the corner of their eye, and to every police car horn that blared too loudly. As such, these students were not as quick to fade from the differing responses of ‘fight or flight’ and transition to ‘holy shit we’re gonna live?!’

Around them soon erupted a different type of chaos, a world filled with the noise of yelling paramedics and the shrill blares of ambulance sirens. Their homeroom teacher had been crushed to a bloody pulp, protecting them until his bones were too broken to support him. The medics took him away first, loading their sensei into a helicopter that would airlift him to the nearest hospital. The only thing discerning Aizawa from all of the blood was his signature dark clothes and hair.

All Might conveniently disappeared from the scene, the others assuming with some medical personnel to treat his own injuries. This left Midorya, Todoroki, Bakugou and Kirishima. It was only after the four of them confirmed that no one in Class 1-A was left behind that they finally trudged up the too-long staircase.

Upon exiting the building, both Ojiro and Hera were on stretchers, their respective paramedics fighting to stabilize them before loading them into an ambulance. The boys’ eyes widened in horror the second they caught a glimpse of their fallen classmates up close. Ojiro’s face was something akin to a tye dyed shirt, as violent purple bruises and several bloody gashes bloomed across his face, most looking like they’d require stitches. One medic placed an oxygen mask over his face, while another appeared to be feeling his chest for broken ribs. It looked like someone dropped a house on the guy.

While it relieved Midorya and Todoroki somewhat to see their friend at least responsive even if it was wincing in pain, it only made Bakugou and Kirishima even more uneasy to see Hera lying limp at Ojiro’s side on her own stretcher. Hera’s paramedics were following a similar protocol, checking her own ribs for breaks as well before placing a similar mask on her own face. After she had checked and double checked Hera’s ribs, the woman solemnly announced the number ‘eight’ to her colleague. The second responder took her vitals, his face only turning grim upon shining a flashlight in Hera’s eyes.

“Pupils are fixed and dilated,” the man had declared, before wasting no more time and wrapping yet another layer of gauze across Hera’s still bleeding head. “She has a severe concussion. Let’s get her into the hospital before she-” It was at this moment that Hera’s body began to involuntarily jerk and jolt, and if the first responders weren’t moving their asses before they sure as Hell were now.

“She’s having a seizure!” the man yelled while the woman audibly counted out the duration of Hera’s seizure in seconds. All the four of them could do was watch, their feet rooting to the spot even when a few nearby Heroes saw what was going down and tried to usher the guys away from the traumatic scene. Even as the ambulance doors closed heavily upon Hera and Ojiro, her body continued to seize.

They stumbled through police interviews from the authorities like zombies, the Heroes deciding to save the rest of their questioning until after the four of them had reunited with their families. The police gave them the night to process things and get any medical treatment before calling them in to hear of their experiences in more detail, their minds still fresh with their new traumas.

* * *

The coming week was as busy for Class 1-A as it was nerve-wracking. Classes had been suspended for the entirety of UA while the Heroes and local authorities jacked up their already crack security. Each of the students were questioned in detail where they were and when, turing to one another afterwords to discern who was where. All of them who were not with their families were either about to be released from the hospital, or still in intensive care.

Recovery Girl had tended to those of them with minor injuries, sedating those who had overused their Quirks so that they could enter a state of sleep only deep enough for their bodies to recuperate without the fear of any nightmares; a blessing each of them was grateful for. However, there was little the elderly woman could do to soothe their spirits and withered senses of pride. She could see the fear in the eyes of her students, recognize the crippling dread now hanging over them all.

In all her years as a Hero, Recovery Girl was no stranger to losing students, but never under her watch during their time at UA. Usually once they’re older, young heroes thrown into the thick of combat who maybe make it on their own for a few years competently enough, until some Villain takes them down in the shadows of an alley, without her knowing of it and far beyond her Quirk’s reach. But never had she almost lost an entire class of first years, and on a fully functioning campus facility no less.

Recovery Girl was beside herself with anger, and no one who dares to torment a bear’s cubs can ever just walk away like nothing happened.

* * *

Ojiro had woken three days later in the ICU of a hospital on the outskirts of Tokyo, having been kept under medical sedation while his wounds healed. His first coherent thoughts in this order were that he needed some more morphine, and ‘Oh my God is Hera okay?!’

Bolting upright in bed had been his first mistake, not only because it hurt like shit but also because he felt bad for scaring the poor nurse cho had been innocently checking his charts. Pain like he had never felt jolted through his ribs like electricity jump starting a beat up old car. Falling back against the pillows heavily, Oiro tried to remember what breathing was while the nurse alerted the staff that he was awake. A doctor with two horns and a neatly trimmed beard waltzed into the room, a chart in hand and another nurse in tow.

“Good to have you back with us son,” the man patted him on the shoulder, smiling warmly. “You woke up with a bit of a start, son. Startled us all. How are you feeling?”

“Like Hell,” Ojiro grunted, “but I think I’ll live.”

The doctor chuckled before exchanging a few knowing glances with the nurses and asking for some privacy. They finished taking Ojiro’s vitals and checking a few machines, before departing without another word. The doctor pulled up a stiff looking chair and sat down heavily in it, probably glad to be off his feet in who knows how many hours. He could see the questions sparkling in Ojiro’s eyes, the fear, the anxiety and the dread, so the doctor went ahead and got on with it.

“Your friend is a tough one,” the man chuckled, looking at Ojiro assuringly. “She’s going to make it.”

Ribs be damned, Ojiro let out a sob, hiding his face with his forearm. He hadn’t known that this was what he needed to hear so badly until he actually did, but there he was, weeping in a hospital bed like a damn baby, overjoyed that his friend was alive. He hadn’t known Hera very well prior to training with her, which had become more frequent after her infamous apology to the class. Who knew that fighting for your lives with a classmate whom you didn’t even know very well could reduce you to tears the moment you found out that they were alive; that those strikes she took to the head didn’t just kill her right in front of him in the USJ?

* * *

Kirishima had been studying in his room the following evening, or at least trying to, but his mind was elsewhere. He had only ever called Bakugou if they were meeting up to train or spar together, and every other time Kirishima had called his volcano of a friend to hang out, Bakugou had mercilessly shot him down. For a good few minutes Kirishima stared down at his phone in his hands, not knowing if reaching out to Bakugou of all people made him a pussy for admitting any sort of emotional weakness, but there he was, hesitating to call his self-proclaimed best bud. After debating his options for another moment, Kirishima rationalized that the worst thing that Bakugou could do was insult him and cuss him out before hanging up.

So Kirishima took a leap of faith and hit the call button. Bakugou had answered on the first ring.

“Fucking what now Shitty Hair?” Bakugou had snapped in greeting, and something about the hostility made Kirishima feel strangely at home. A grin spread across his face as the screams of Bakugou’s mom telling her son to ‘shut the hell up’ faintly echoes through the phone, and suddenly Kirishima was glad that his friend couldn’t see just how pathetically happy he looked at such a small interaction.

“Oi, you there?” Bakugou asked when Kirishima had yet to speak, which immediately set him on edge. “Usually I can’t get you to shut up,” he stated plainly, less as an accusation and more as a matter of fact.

“I’m just...I was trying so hard to study man but like,” Kirisima paused to take a shaky breath as his voice began to crack. Hella unmanly. “...I just can’t stop thinking! About that crazy fight with All Might and that Nomu, about everything that went down in the USJ. Dude, we were so lucky! Well not lucky that we knew how to fight because we trained for that kind of stuff, but like lucky that we didn’t face anything or anyone too much for us to handle. We got some action but we didn’t get hurt, so I thought that our classmates must have been doing alright on their own too. But then I saw Ojiro and...and Hera and I just...fuck bro, I can’t even sleep at night!” Not once had Bakugou interrupted him or hung up the call, which Kirishima thought his friend might just do halfway through his little monologue, but Bakugou had managed to behave himself.

“Get dressed,” Bakugou commanded. “I’ll be over in ten.”

“I appreciate it man, but I really don’t think I could study right now,” Kirishima said in defeat, which only made Bakugou angrier. “I’d just be wasting your time.”

“Who the fuck said anything about studying, Shitty Hair? We’re going for a run to shut you up, and don't you dare keep me waiting.” And that was all the direction Kirishima got before Bakugou hung up on him, though he should have accepted that.

So Kirishima pulled on some sweats and a sleeveless shirt, glad for some form of direction while he tried not to drag his feet. Kirishima barely had enough time to splash some water onto his face before a telltale pounding sounded at the door, signaling Bakugou’s always grumpy arrival. It was music to Kirishima’s ears though, and after sprinting down the stairs to open the door he had to fight not to give Bakugou a hug, which would likely earn him a punch to the face. Or worse, but there was always his hardening Quirk. When Kirishima looked at Bakugou like a feeble little puppy, Bakugou was over it.

“Fucking quit it with that shit,” Bakugou complained. “Let’s go. Keep up.”

With no time to pout or linger, Kirishima instead focused on his breathing, the form of his body, and the scuff of his shoes as each of his feet hit the pavement. If he so much as tried to ask Bakugou about the ‘shit that didn’t matter’ then Bakugou would only pick up their pace. They kept going like that until both of them were strewn onto the grassy banks of the small canal that cut through town, starfished and gasping for air.

“Are you done…*pant*...thinking about the past?” Bakugou wheezed, having not expected for Kirishima to keep up with him, as this was the first time the two had actually gone running together.

“I wanna...go visit them,” Kirishima coughed, wiping the sweat out of his eyes. “...I gotta see how they’re doing.”

“Then fucking go already,” Bakugou told him simply, already knowing where this was going.

“I heard from Tokoyami - man I’m out of shape! - that Hera’s adopted dad can’t afford the plane ticket from America...Bro we gotta go visit her!” Kirishima was close to breaking down right there. “Imagine passing out during the middle of a fight and waking up in a hospital with no one around you!”

“We don’t know if she’s even gonna be awake,” Bakugou told him straight up, but he sounded like he was now lost in his own thoughts.

“It would be unmanly if we didn’t check on our friend after all that-” “I never said I didn’t wanna go!” Bakugou blurted, regretting it immediately.

“~Aw Bro <3” Kirishima began, pouncing on Bakugou with a hug so momentous that it sent the two careening down the steep hill, and almost into the canal in a messy string of blasts and curses.


	12. Something New

Author's Note: 'Sup peeps! Been a turbulent but at the same time uneventful month for me. I quit my job in April because I was being harrassed by some of the golf club members, and long story short management took the golfer's side because they knew him outside of work and no doubt wanted his monthly membership payments to the club to continue. I moved back in with my mother around January because things with my Grandaddy were going south, a lot of it due to his close mindedness concerning minorities and what he expects out of me because I am a woman. I'm blessed that my mom is not asking me for any rent but I throw her a hundred bucks here and there to help with the bills and put some food in the fridge. I've been feeding myself with my Covid Gov statment (because I live in America and Trump actually got us some money, holy shit), and my tax return money, and I had some funds saved up from working at the country club. 

Everyone around me kept telling me not to quit my job until I got something else lined up, but my friend Anna was the only one who told me that leaving was the right decision. I struggle with depression and what has thankfully become only mild anxiety, my panic attacks subsiding entirely as soon as I removed myself from a customer service environment. I am currently looking for work and applying for jobs left and right, but this month has been the vacation I feel like I really needed. 

I'm learning to distance myself from the toxic people who have come into my life, and this has been diffucult as some of these individuals have been close friends with me for years. But just because you have a long history with someone or they helped you through a few rough patches in your life, it doesn't warrant passive agressive behaviors or scathing comments here and there. Things snowball over time. Problems only get bigger when you ignore them.

Unfortunately, other than my close friend Anna, I admit that I don't have many friends. I can usually be stong for a few weeks before I cave and wonder why no one is responding to my texts or hitting me up to hang out. But sometimes being lonely is more painful than being with the wrong people. I wish I was working right now so that I don't have to sit around my house with my thoughts - and my three cats/fuzzy children - when I know that they are all hanging out without me. It isn't paranoia when I can see our group chat going crazy while they make plans, and not once am I ever invited to get together with anyone other than to a Convention because they need another roomate to make things cheaper for them.

Wow I feel a little better. This has been Brittany with the weather. Now onto AO3 for the story, and the only thing getting me though this damn Pandemic. Hope ya'll are having more fun than me! If not then distract yourself with this crap!

* * *

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Twelve

“Calm the fuck down,” Bakugou complained to Kirishima, who was beside himself with excitement as they boarded the train to Hera’s hospital. “You’ll see your girlfriend soon.”

“B-Bro!” Kirishima hissed as a few passengers gave him what could be considered encouraging glances. Was it the flowers? “We’re not- it's not like that,” he drifted off, his anxiety over other things derailing his outburst.

‘Could have fooled me,’ Bakugou thought but didn’t say, instead settling for, “Then get your head out of your ass and relax. It’s just a stupid hospital visit. I can’t believe you made me stop so that you could waste your money on those stupid flowers.”

Kirishima looked down at the flowers with concern. “Is pink the wrong color?”

Luckily for Kirishima and the rest of the passengers on board, their stop was up ahead, and Bakugou was calculating just how to knock out his classmate and escape with so many witnesses around them.

* * *

Ojiro had been hobbling around the hospital to stretch his legs a little, his discharge only two days away. He had been making his way to the small garden in the building’s courtyard on the first floor when the sound of yelling drew him to the lobby.

He discovered Bakugou snapping at one of the nurses for teasing Kirishima about the flowers, while the latter attempted to calm his friend down before they got thrown out. Ojiro never thought he’d be so happy to see his classmates in person - even Bakugou of all people. Kirishima noticed Ojiro hobbling up to them before Bakugou did, some of the tension in his face evaporating at the sight of their classmate. They exchanged one of those bro hugs with the holding fists and the firm pats on the backs, Ojiro pointedly throwing Bakugou a nod, doubting the blond would want any part of the physical contact. To Ojiro’s surprise, Bakugou returned the gesture with a curt nod of his own.

“Hey man!” Kirishima exclaimed with the purity of a child. “I heard you were awake, but I didn’t expect you to be up and around so soon. How are you feeling?”

“Still a bit sore, but no longer like I was almost bludgeoned half to death,” Ojiro laughed uneasily, earning him a worried glance from Kirishima and a raised brow from Bakugou. “Heh, sorry. I guess Hera’s dark humor is starting to rub off on me,” Ojiro confessed sadly, his own eyes falling at the mention of their friend.

“Is she awake yet?” Kirishima tried not to sound too desperate, but Bakugou could detect the vulnerability in the shake of his voice anyway. Ojiro’s gaze fell to the floor and he solemnly shook his head.

“She’s two floors above us,” Ojiro began, before wordlessly leading them down the hall towards the elevators. “I gotta warn you though, Hera...well there’s all those machines and…” Bakugou spoke up, pushing Ojiro out of the way and steeling himself, insulted at the thought he might not be able to handle something.

“We’re not going anywhere. If you can’t handle it then you can piss off.”

Kirishima gaped at him. “Hey man lay off-!” Ojiro grabbed Bakugou’s shirt by the collar, towering over him while Bakugou just glared back at him, unfazed.

“She’s on a ventilator! By the time I met up with her on the other side of the Fire Zone, Hera had already overused her Quirk. She couldn’t even walk…” Ojiro’s voice shook, his eyes far away as he replayed it all in his mind, grip tightening on Bakugou’s shirt. “I found her collapsed in an alley about to be jumped. I carried her on my back and used my tail to keep us above all of the chaos, but then some- pterodactyl looking thing swooped in out of nowhere and knocked us out of the sky! They beat us with metal pipes again and again...but Hera was knocked out right away. They kept beating her and she couldn’t even raise her arms to cover her head…Those damn cowards!”

Kirishima’s face had paled as his blood ran cold with horror, and Bakugou was literally shaking with rage, but this time it wasn’t directed at Ojiro.

“Maybe you guys could have protected her, but I did everything I could and it still wasn’t enough,” Ojiro glared at Bakugou, his anguish clear in tear filled eyes. “So don’t you dare waltz into her room like what she looks like won’t affect you because you’re so damn tough, because if you can do that then you’re not fucking human.” Ojiro released Bakugou’s shirt with a shove, leading them into the elevator. The three of them were silent during the short ride, their breath leaving them once the heavy metal doors slid open and revealed their friend through a glass wall.

Hera’s limp body was propped up by pillows on a stiff looking gurney, with said ventilator disappearing from its machine and down into her throat. Her skin was pale, and the few patches of her arms not wrapped in gauze or bandages were littered with needles and IVs. Hera’s hair fell in uneven matts around her face, her chest slowly rising and falling in an unnatural rhythm, in time with her machines. Ojiro explained that part of her hair had to be shaved so that the surgeons could close the wound to her skull with twelve staples, though they had tried to salvage what they could.

Kirishima was the one who moved first, walking numbly over to Hera’s hospital bed and taking one of her hands in his gently, not wanting to cause her any more pain. Then he fell to his knees, still holding onto Hera’s hand like he’d never let it go. If she had been with them then maybe… Kirishima shook his head. The only thought that saved him from some of the crippling grief was knowing that Hera had at least had Ojiro at her side, instead of being alone - both during the fight, and here at the hospital. Bakugou appeared at Kirishima’s side after a few rough moments, lightly kneeing him in the back and producing a chair for Kirishima to sit in, rather than on the floor.

“Oi, hospital floors are gross,” Bakugou said in a normal volume, which for him was basically whispering. When Kirishima hesitated to move, Bakugou slipped a hand under his arms and hoisted him up, depositing Kirishima into said chair unceremoniously, but not roughly.

“Her hands are freezing…” Kirishima whispered, trying to warm them with his own.

Bakugou stared wide eyed at Hera, his fury only building as he mentally catalogued each gash and bruise. Ojiro took in Bakugou’s drowning expression and figured seeing Hera’s condition had humbled the blond enough, so Ojiro merely stood there in silence, while Kirishima fought to quiet his sobs. Ojiro was the one who eventually broke the silence, asking about their own experiences that fateful day in the USJ, wondering where they had ended up, and how many Villains had been awaiting them at the end of their Warp.

It was halfway through their conversation when Kirishima felt it; the sensation of Hera’s hand lightly grasping at his own. At first he thought Hera was only doing it in her sleep, maybe having some nightmare, but then her body jerked and she woke with a start and their eyes met.

They yelled for the doctors and Hera slowly blinked up at the three of them, her body relaxing once she recognized who she was with. Hera gave Kirishima’s hand a reassuring squeeze and Ojiro a fist bump, having at least the sense not to attempt conversation with a tube in her airway.

To Bakugou, however, Hera gave what looked like a smirk, and a victorious middle finger.

Although for different reasons, each of the guys lost their shit. Kirishima and Ojiro were overcome with relief, while Bakugou was more insulted than anything, but they could tell that Bakugou was as relieved as they were. The nurses and doctors filtered into the room and politely ushered them into the hallway while the staff tended to Hera. The guys hung back in the hallway, and after a tense twenty minutes, one nurse reported that Hera was breathing strongly enough on her own to trade out her ventilator for a simple oxygen mask. The guys waited outside the room with baited breath, tensing worriedly when the sounds of Hera’s gagging escaped the room.

“I guess they took the tube out. Her throat is gonna be sore for days,”Ojiro stated knowingly.

“How do you know?” Bakugou asked, sounding grumpy but only just.

“Mine was, and Hera was on hers four days longer than I was,” Ojiro stated matter of factly, and Bakugou didn’t say anything else.

When they were eventually allowed to return to Hera’s room, she was delirious and confused, unable to hold a full conversation. They had attempted to depart with promises to visit her again tomorrow, each of the guys were startled when Hera demanded hugs goodbye.

Both Bakugou and Ojiro found themselves instinctively looking to Kirishima for guidance.

“What-we can’t- isn’t that like taking advantage of her?!” Kirishima stammered, face blooming red while his mind drifted to ‘ _What would Ida do_?’ “Hera clearly isn’t in her right mind!”

“I mean, it isn’t as if she asked us to kiss her,” Ojiro offered, shrugging his shoulders. “And isn’t she an American? They’re way more lax about physical affection in the West anyway. I don't think she'll be embarrassed by this.”

Bakugou had merely crossed his arms in defiance, wanting to say something - anything - to dismiss himself from the obligation but not knowing just what in the hell to say.

Hera started crying when the boys had done nothing and left her hanging awkwardly with her arms wide open to receive them, and so each of them caved. Ojiro moved in first, less afraid to hurt Hera as he had witnessed first hand just where she had been injured, and which places to avoid. When Hera wouldn’t release her hold on him, she continued to reach out for Bakugou and Kirishima.

‘ _Oh God, not a group hug_ ,’ Bakugou thought with horror. ‘ _I don’t even do normal hugs!_ ’

“I-I thought-” Hera sniffled weakly, still reaching out for Bakugou with her skinny little arm containing the least amount of IVs. “I’m so glad you’re all okay!”

It was the damn crack in her voice that did him in, and in half a second Bakugou was on them, coming in between Kirishima and Ojiro and snaking an arm behind Hera’s shoulders. The three of them were crouched over Hera awkwardly, all being sure not to put any of their weight on her when she couldn't even sit herself up without the aid of her propped up hospital bed. Bakugou glared at Ojiro and Kirishima with murderous intent.

“You two fucks tell anyone about this and I’m gonna put you bastards in the damn ground,” he growled, but Hera just giggled.

“But Bakubro, Kiri and Oji aren’t flowers,” Hera said with a seriousness only someone high on morphine could manage. “You can’t plant them. I won’t let you.”

“And what are you gonna do about it?” Bakugou challenged absently, while Kirishima and Ojiro were too busy wheezing with laughter.

Hera looked thoughtful for a moment, as if she were seriously considering an outcome. But then her eyes glazed over and she giggled again, before pitifully answering, “I don’t know yet.”

Kirishima and Ojiro couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah, well get back to me when you have enough working brain cells to come up with an actual threat,” Bakugou retorted. Their banter continued for a few more comical minutes before Bakugou finally peeled them all away, a small part of him he would never acknowledge not wanting to leave her.

Little did any of them know that Present Mic had recorded the whole thing on his phone, before stealthily skipping down the hall towards Aizawa’s room like a madman to show him everything.

* * *

Hera was finally coherent the following day, her only clue the guys had been there at all were the pink roses left on her windowsill, along with the gossip from the nurses. She had been discharged from the ICU and downgraded to a normal room, and thank God because all of those machines were starting to freak her out. The only other time Hera had been in the hospital...was after her failed suicide attempt when she was eleven.

If everything went well, then Hera would be seen by a doctor with a cell regeneration Quirk who could begin the process of mending her still broken bones later that afternoon, and hopefully she would be cleared for release if the procedure was successful. Ojiro came to see her sometime around lunch, the staff kind enough to let him eat his own portioned out meal in her room, as she was still unable to really walk any distance without agitating her injuries. Ojiro had conveniently left out how high she had been, deciding that she could leave that to the guys.

It was just after Hera and Ojiro were finishing up their meals that two police officers came into her room, apologizing for the inconvenience but wanting to question her about her own experience during the ambush. Hera willed herself not to roll her eyes, annoyed that the feds couldn’t even give her a full 24 hours to wake up, but she supposed that it had been almost a week since the incident. The League of Villains was still out there, and she was the last person in Class 1-A that had yet to be interviewed.

Hera sighed, her throat still sore from the ventilator that had come out of her throat only yesterday. She figured that the sooner she gave them what they wanted, then the sooner she could go back to sleep. So Hera told them everything she knew, everything she did, intentionally leaving out that she could apparently create fire tornadoes. That was another conversation for another day, when she actually had the energy for another interrogation.

“So you mean to tell me that you single handedly took on over twenty or so Villains by yourself before meeting up with your classmate Ojiro?” said the young officer in astonishment, rather than in disbelief.

“They were hardly fighters,” Hera reasoned, shaking her head. “Most of them seemed like unskilled mercenaries. The only dangerous things about them were their Quirks, but most lacked the ability to think soundly during combat. The punks were so thrilled to be ganging up on some high school girl that they came at me blindly, so I stuck to hand to hand as long as I could before finally revealing my Quirk. I created an opening for myself and then fled the scene. But as you can see,” Hera gestured absently to herself and to the room around them, “even after regrouping with a friend, my luck ran out.”

The officer got everything he needed in only about an hour before thanking Hera and seeing himself out.

The doctor with the Cell Regeneration Quirk came to see her just after dinner, and after only a few moments of treatment Hera was finally able to breathe again without the plaguing pains of broken ribs. He mended her sprained ankle and sped up the bone growth around the gash in her skull. He warned Hera that she was in for some headaches due to her now rapidly healing concussion, but that she was free to be released as early as the next morning. Hera sighed, supposing that she should count her blessings. After all, she was technically on seizure watch after the crazy one she had at the end of the USJ fiasco.

Hera was granted her phone back, Hera searched her contacts for literally anyone that could possibly spring her from the hospital, her options limited to her immediate teachers or Principal Nezu, as Aizawa was in worse state than she was.

It was when she reached for the glass of water on the rolling table hovering over her lap that things got real weird real quick.

Before Hera’s hand ever touched the glass, the water sloshed around violently, threatening to spill over. Hera checked the distance between herself and the tray table above her lap, but she swore she hadn’t bumped it with either of her knees. Hera focused on the water in the glass with the same type of will she used to summon her weather, praying that her hunch was wrong.

Again, the water swirled like a tornado inside the cup, before levitating into a single glob of liquid. Hera’s eyes widened marginally, the solution returning into the glass in a heap, finally toppling it over the second her focus was broken in her own shock. ‘ _I must be hallucinating_ ,’ Hera denied, even though her findings spoke for themselves. ‘ _It must be the morphine_.’

If not for the drugs and the exhaustion still plaguing her body, thoughts about The League of Villains and the horrors they put her through would be undoubtedly keeping her up at night. The unwanted stress from discovering yet another aspect of her Quirk was too much. Hera continued to try and rationalize the behavior of the water in the glass as a mere drug induced hallucination, even as her consciousness slowly started to slip away.

Unwillingly, Hera’s mind drifted to her mother’s Quirk, which was Vapor Manipulation, and she began to wonder just which God she had pissed off in a past life, unless it was this one.


	13. What We Do Now

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Thirteen

Hera was discharged from the hospital only two days after she had woken up, and thank God because all of the tubes and needles were beginning to make her jumpy. However, the downside was that she had to sleep in the infirmary under Recovery Girl’s observation, but anything less than a hospital gurney was pretty welcome to Hera at this point. School was not supposed to start up again until the following Monday, so Hera thankfully had the weekend to relax and rest up while she could. This also meant that she had no homework to catch up on, and hallelujah to that. Recovery Girl had permitted Hera to return to classes, but strictly forbid her to physically train for at least another week or so, and only after she gave Hera the go ahead. But that wasn’t even the worst part; Recovery Girl wanted Hera to return to classes for the next two to three days in a wheelchair. 

“You have gotta be kidding me?” Hera whined in disbelief. “Aizawa-sensei was hurt way worse than I was and we were both discharged from the hospital at the same time. He wasn’t in a wheelchair - and he looked like a mummy!” 

“Aizawa’s injuries were to his arms and face!” the Hero reminded her. “Your ankle is still healing, and I absolutely forbid you to strain your _eight broken ribs_ by using crutches!” 

“Well then can’t I just wear one of those huge foot casts meant for walking instead? Or something?”Hera pleaded “My friends are already worried enough about me as it is. Isn’t a wheelchair a bit dramatic?” 

“Raise both of your arms above your head,” Recovery Girl instructed calmly. Confused, Hera did as she was told, or tried to anyway. Sharp pains shot through her chest before Hera’s arms had ever made it to eye level. Wincing, Hera’s arms fell to caress her sides, a wave of dizziness preventing her from making any further comments. “See, girl? You’re still very much healing, and your body is no doubt suffering from Severe Quirk Fatigue. Would your sprained ankle be enough to support you if you fainted in a stairwell?” 

Hera glared at the floor and sighed, the small gesture somehow enough to bring her a level of pain. Looks like the wheelchair it was. She turned to Recovery Girl.

“If I do everything right...if I take it easy to let my body heal and follow the dietary regime you planned out for me...do you believe I’ll be healed in time to train for the Sports Festival?”

The Hero only smirked at Hera in return, nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders. “That all depends on you.”

* * *

Hera hadn’t had the courage to mention her fire tornado or about discovering she could manipulate small bodies of water, instead unpacking some lounge clothes from her duffel bag and laying them out on her assigned bed in the school’s infirmary. Black sweats and a matching long sleeved shirt, the color matching her present mood. Hera hit the showers while Recovery Girl called one of the cafeteria chefs to whip something up for them, despite it not actually being a school day. Until now, Hera had yet to stand for any long period of time without someone or something to lean on, grateful for the metal handicap pipes drilled into the shower walls for support. 

Hera had only been freed from the hospital early that morning, having planned to study and brush up on her Japanese for at least a few hours of her gloomy Saturday morning - the rain wasn’t Hera’s doing, she had checked the radar to make sure. Now however, Hera ust wanted a good long nap, not expecting something as mundane as a shower to be her undoing. Hera hadn’t realized she had been dozing off on her bed until Recovery Girl was at her side slightly shaking her awake. Hera had woken with a bit of a start, less a jump and more of a flinch. Her food sat on a tray table nearby, still steaming and hot, the portions thankfully small. Hera doubted she had the energy to eat anything more. 

‘ _ I must really be out of it if I hadn’t noticed Recovery Girl leave to get my food, and then set the table _ ,’ Hera mused to herself, her arms feeling like noodles while she fought with her chopsticks as she ate. ‘ _ I’d kill for a fork right about now _ .’ It was then that Hera was finally starting to put two and two together. The pain from her injuries had been for the most part dulled with pain medication, and her extreme fatigue was likely a combination of both the Doctor’s and Recovery Girl’s Quirks force mending her bones. Terrific. 

Hera sat up groggily, not realizing that she had been cold until the older Hero lightly draped a blanket over her shoulders while she ate. Sam had been good to her, certainly, but even he wasn’t so attentive to her needs, so nurturing. Maybe it was because this was Recovery Girl’s job, but Hera couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it was like to have a mother.

Tears burned and pooled in Hera’s eyes, and her chopsticks - the fucking things - clammored to the tacle as she fought to hide her vulnerable state. Recovery Girl initially assumed that her student was either in a bout of physical pain, or suffering a mild case of PTSD, but something told the Hero that Hera’s reaction was something else entirely. All at once, Hera blurted the details of her fluke fire tornado at the USJ, and about the water in the cup at the hospital. Hera proved as much to Recovery Girl by manipulating the liquid of her hot tea, this time without managing to make a mess.

She attempted to play off her little episode as the understandable fear of discovering yet another aspect of her already dangerous Quirk. The Hero had soothed Hera, reminding her student to continue to rest and to heal for now, and that learning to control her new abilities was ‘ _ future Hera’s problem _ ,’ as Recovery Girl had put it. The Hero administered Hera’s midday pain medication along with some of her gummy vitamins after Hera had finished eating. Deciding that sleep was coming for her whether she liked it or not, Hera caved and promised herself to make the time to study whenever she woke up. She was out in less than a minute. 

* * *

Hera’s nap had unexpectedly lasted a good four hours, but her sleep did anything but slow her insane metabolism because she woke up starving. Having expected this, Recovery Girl reported that more food was already on its way. Hera failed to hide her blush, embarrassed to be as excited for food as a spoiled child. Stretching as much as she was able to with several still fractured bones, Hera ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame some of her bed head. This task had been easier than expected in some places, while others were completely void of any hair. An idea popped into her head then, one that Hera decided was worth running by Recovery Girl, if only to see what her odds were. 

“If I brought someone with me, would it be at all possible to go to a hair salon?” Hera ventured, gesturing awkwardly to the uneven mop of tresses that had unfortunately become the fate of her hair. “I’d like to look at least somewhat presentable before school starts on Monday.” 

The Hero contemplated her request for a few seconds, considering their options. “I suppose it would be fine if you brought a chaperone, but you are hardly in any condition to be going into town. I can perhaps call in a hair stylist to make a house call, but the media would be all over the idea of letting a civilian onto campus so soon after the Villain attack. Let me run a few ideas past Principal Nezu, but try not to get your hopes up, dearie.”

Hera’s face fell, but just as she was mentally preparing herself to wear her hair up in a bun until the bare patches grew out, Recovery Girl pulled out her cell phone.

“I think I know someone more than capable of helping with your predicament, if he’s available,” was all the Hero told her, before stepping out of the room and leaving Hera to her food.

* * *

The bottle-blond hero had been winding down from a long day of catching small time Villains and training interns when he received the call. Recovery Girl was not typically one to socialize outside of work, so Best Jeanist instinctively prepared himself for anything. Nearly every Hero of rank in Tokyo had the older woman’s contact information, due to the nature of her Quirk, but she had never reached out to him until now. 

“Hello, Recovery Girl,” Best Jeanist offered, always the gentleman. When she hadn’t immediately cut him off with the details of some pressing emergency, he continued. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Recovery Girl told him about Hera, explaining that she was among the students seriously injured as a result of the attack at the USJ. She explained to Jeanist about the casualty of Hera’s hair, informing him that the student could use far more than a simple trip to the salon to make her feel better. 

“I believe that she needs some emotional guidance,” Recovery Girl continued. “Beyond sorting out her emotions from the Villain attack, it’s obvious that she’s struggling with some weight on her shoulders, but I haven’t a clue as to exactly what.” Recovery Girl told the Hero about what little she knew about Hera’s parents back in America. “From what I have gathered, her parents were addicts, and for one reason or another she was adopted by her neighbor when she was only eleven. That’s what Principal Nezu told her immediate teachers and I, at least.” 

“I see,” Best Jeanist hummed in understanding, knowing exactly the kind of damage living within such households can do. He has personally had to place children in the foster care system more times than he cared to count, when parent after parent turned to substance abuse or crime, rather than think of their children’s well being. For as long as he has been a Hero, things like that never seemed to get any easier. 

“You can see it in her eyes, Hakumata,” Recovery Girl stressed. “Young Hera is absolutely drowning in guilt. You can see it in the way she carries herself when she thinks no one’s watching. It’s as if she has never had any positive interactions with others, so while it’s clear she’s grateful for such gestures, it's like Hera has no idea how to react whenever anyone does something good for her.” The woman sighed. “On the other side of the coin, Hera is selfless almost to a fault. She does not hesitate for a second to help others and does so without any want in return. Whatever hand she has been dealt by life thus far, I would like to deal Hera a better one.” 

Recovery Girl told him about the blanket and how self conscious she is about her appearance because of her scars, Best Jeanist listening intently, though the number four Hero had already made his decision. 

“If you truly think that I can make a difference in her life, Recovery Girl, then I humbly accept your offer to help Miss Gale in any way that I can,” Best Jeanist announced resolutely. “Please encourage her to do some research on possible hairstyles. I shall be over tomorrow at her earliest convenience - granted I do not get tied up with any Villains on my way.”

“She’s been sleeping in a bit due to her pain medication, but Hera seems to be an early riser,” Recovery Girl informed him. “I imagine she should be up around nine tomorrow with as much as she slept today.” 

“Then it is set. I shall be over by ten sharp,” Best Jeanist announced ceremoniously, before bidding Recovery Girl farewell with a flourish and ending the call.

* * *

Hera woke early the next morning, her mind groggy from the meds but feeling better nonetheless. Recovery Girl only told Hera that someone was going to be arriving to cut her hair at ten, but the Hero hadn’t said who. Hera had yet to actually decide on a haircut, hoping that the stylist was cool enough to walk her through her options. She had managed to find a few styles online that she liked, but nothing Hera was entirely ready to commit to. Hera wasn’t typically one to fret over things like hair or fashion, but she was seriously considering cutting her hair short. She was definitely more of a wake up and go kind of gal, but since entering UA Hera had woken up early every morning to tame her locks, so that she could wear her hair down to hide the burns on her neck. Something lower maintenance sounded pretty damn good to her. 

The last fucking thing Hera expected to waltz into the infirmary was Best Jeanist. He kept a light conversation going as he unpacked every hair tool known to woman in a small bag no bigger than a lunch box. It was like those clown cars in the movies, and nothing could convince Hera that there wasn’t a black hole in that bag.

His pleasantries had been as eloquent as they had been short, and before Hera knew it she was seated in a chair with a hospital bed sheet wrapped around her. The number four Hero seemed like the quiet type until you got him talking, and while Hera waited for the inescapable hero monologue she tried to process that she was about to get a haircut from a Pro Hero. Best Jeanist was at least good at small talk, and the sound of someone else’s voice calmed Hera more than she’d like to admit. Hera’s initial paranoia was slowly evaporating, even after she embarrassedly admitted that she hadn’t really been able to thoroughly wash her hair because of her sore ribs. She needn’t have worried, Best Jeanist understood her situation and was doing his utmost to make Hera feel as comfortable as possible, and she could tell. 

As Jeanist was untangling her somewhat matted hair with his fingers, he took in the burns running down her neck, distracted only once his hands lightly brushed up against the staples in her head. “Pardon me,” he apologized, but Hera had assured him that he had not hurt her. Best Jeanist needed to get her talking if he wanted to get Hera to open up to him. He needed to be tactful, but he sensed Hera to be the type of person who appreciated a more direct approach, so direct the Hero would try to be. “So, which styles were you thinking of?”

“I have a few saved onto my phone,” Hera replied matter of factly. “May I show you?”

‘Ah, finally an adolescent with some manners,’ Jeanist thought refreshingly, having had more than enough with his young interns earlier this week. “Please, show me what inspires you,” Best Jeanist encouraged warmly. 

While Hera hobbled across the room to retrieve her phone from her school bag, Best Jeanist adjusted the mirror on the sliding hospital tray table. Recovery Girl had brought it in for them from the teacher’s lounge, with permission from Midnight. Returning to the chair, Hera showed Jeanist two separate haircuts, each falling to the chin and length with some layering. However, the Hero sensed that Hera was not entirely in love with each of the references. 

He could view Hera’s face in the mirror in front of them, but as they discussed how she might like her bangs to frame her face with each of the looks, Best Jeanist could see the excited light fade from her eyes. It was as if Hera could tell that she was feeling some sort of joy and then immediately quelled it. The Hero could tell that Hera was uncannily self aware for someone of her age. Had her mysterious sense of grief caused such a negative psychological reaction, or had Hera done so with purpose?

Even as they conversed, Best Jeanist could tell that she was choosing her words carefully, sizing him up. A good trait for possibly a Hero to have, but not a young girl with trust issues. “Are there any other styles you would like to show me?” he prodded gently. “You don’t seem extremely enthusiastic about either of these photos. With such a wonderful face I am certain that you could easily pull off anything. Within reason, of course.”

At this, Hera cracked a small smile as equally pure as it was mischievous, and Best Jeanist knew then that he had finally started to reach her. “...Well, there was one other haircut that caught my eye,” Hera caved, finding her phone again and pulling up at least ten other photos of a woman with a short pixie cut with zigzagging designs on one side, while the back of her head was shaved into an undercut. “The uh...designs on the side kind of reminded me of lightning,” Hera mumbled bashfully. 

“I believe that this one would suit you perfectly,”Best Jeanist nodded in approval. “This style is so unlike the other two you had chosen. You must have a wide range of style yourself, Miss Gale. A true artist.”

“Actually, I’m trying to branch out a bit, in a lot of ways,” Hera told him as the Hero began spraying a detangler into her locks and comb them out. “The burns and the blue marks cover most of my body. I have known since I was little that I could manipulate the wind around me to some degree, but it was in middle school that I discovered my lightning,” she explained. “I summoned a bolt of it when I was outside during gym, jogging on the track. I injured both myself and a classmate of mine who had unfortunately been too close to me. He was a bully...but I would never wish the burns I gave him onto anyone.” 

Hera’s face fell, but even this incredible admittance only felt like the shallow waters of her guilt. “Once my hair grew back, I always kept it long and wore it down to cover my scars. This haircut seems like a pretty small step in hindsight, but it’s one I want to take forward, if only as a reminder to never underestimate my Quirk again.” 

Best Jeanist stared down at Hera, his eyes wide in a mix of shock and adoration. “If you have the insight to think this critically in ways most adults seem to struggle with, then you have no reason to doubt yourself, Miss Gale.” 

Hera smiled sadly. “After...the accident...I refused to use my Quirk. I was terrified of it. The thought of becoming a Hero hadn’t even crossed my mind until I was adopted by my neighbor, Samuel. He was convinced that someone like me could be a great Hero, and not just because I have a powerful Quirk.”

“I agree completely,” Jeanist encouraged whole heartedly. “And what of your parents?” he asked, already knowing the answer but curious as to what Hera would be comfortable telling him.

A turmoil of emotions flooded through Hera’s eyes. Anger. Grief. Sadness. 

“...My biological parents were unfit to care for me ,” was all she told him. He decided to sway the conversation away from her family, instructing that she closed her eyes while he trimmed down her bangs. 

“Other than by the encouragement of your new guardian, was there any other reason you decided to become a Hero?” Best Jeanist inquired. 

“A mixture of things, some more selfish than others,” sensing the questioning gaze from Jeanist, Hera elaborated, being sure to keep her head still. “To atone for all of the people I have ever hurt, both with my Quirk or with my actions, or more so from my lack of action. I really do want to dedicate my life to helping children who have gone through the same traumas as I have, like being displaced from their homes, but…” Hera took a shaky breath, and Jeanist paused his scissors while she collected her courage. 

“...When I first set foot onto UA, it felt like I was committing myself to a life sentence. I thought I knew that I truly had what it takes to be a Hero, but as I got to know my classmates and all of the great reasons why they chose to become Pros...all of my reasons just didn’t seem good enough. I felt like I didn’t deserve to be here, to make the first real friends I’ve had in years, but then we all started low key motivating one another and then my crappy morals got a little fuzzy,” Hera’s eyes snapped open as she realized that she kinda just cursed. “Um sorry. Excuse my language.”

“I am proud,” Best Jeanist cut in. “Proud that you recognized your first goal as something self gratifying, and learned to strive for something better, both for yourself and for those you will eventually come to save,” he commended. “You have an extraordinary head on your shoulders, Miss Gale. If you can fight anywhere near as well as you can analyze a situation, then I imagine you shall be a force to be reckoned with.”

Hera couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry, you said ‘reckoned’ and it reminded me of how we talk back in Oklahoma. They use the word more as slang over there, though. Even hearing the word in Japanese makes me think of home.”

“Do you miss it there, back in the States?” Best Jeanist wondered, and there it was again, that distant look in her eyes.

“I don’t miss the weather.”


	14. Reflecting

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Fourteen

* * *

As per Recovery Girl’s request, Hera had begrudgingly agreed to be confined to a wheelchair while traversing the campus, and always with a chaperone. Using her own arms to wheel herself around would only strain her ribs, and Hera was dead set on doing everything right so that she could hopefully be cleared to walk on her own within the next several days. Once Recovery Girl had determined that her bones had fully healed, then Hera could finally return to the dorms and no longer have to sleep in the infirmary.

  
Hera cringed at the thought of asking her classmates to wheel her around, but Recovery Girl was kind enough to cart her off to homeroom before the rest of the students showed up so Hera could get situated. Deciding that Hagakure wouldn’t mind her hijacking her seat, Hera made herself at home in the first row. Fuck staggered classroom steps. She was sure Hagakure would understand.

  
As the students started to filter into the building, Hera did her best to look as alive as possible, after hearing that many of her peers had come to see her while she was still unconscious in the ICU. She was discharged only like two days after she woke up, so Hera felt awful knowing that the last time her friends had seen her was looking like she had one foot in the grave. She loathed that anyone had seen her in such a vulnerable state, which was why Hera had a lot of resignations about using a wheelchair. It made her look weak, and here she was just trying to make her Hero Debut at the Sports Festival in a few short weeks.

  
Hera sighed, casting her gaze out through the windows and down to the courtyard. A dark and expensive looking car pulled up at the front of the campus, and out of it stepped Todoroki, who looked like the entire world was on his shoulders. Hera took note of the position of the sun and pulled out her phone, directing its glare into Todoroki’s eyes. He had shielded them in annoyance, glaring up in the direction of the light looking as if the Gods had offended him. Hera had merely greeted him with a lazy wave with her phone in hand and an easy smile, Todoroki’s face softening into something akin to relief at the gesture. Hera couldn’t wait to see his face when he saw her in a wheelchair.

  
Then in came Ida, bursting into the room feeling victorious for all of six seconds thinking that he was the first student to arrive until he noticed Hera’s presence. His jaw dropping, Ida sprinted over to her, taking her hands in his and shaking them furiously as he worriedly asked if she was feeling better. Todoroki came in just as all of this was happening, less phased by Hera’s wheelchair and more concerned with the fact that Ida was holding her hands almost intimately.

He raised an eyebrow at the two with a questioning look.

  
“Oh don’t worry, Ida was just relieved that I’m not dead,” Hera answered Todoroki’s thoughts. “Though I could always lie and tell everyone he just proposed to me.”

  
Ida’s red face was to die for, and Todoroki had smirked at the joke and taken his own seat.

  
“I’m glad you’re alright,” was all Todoroki had given her before the rest of the class started to filter in, similar scenarios playing out just as comically.

  
A few weeks ago all of them were just trying to make the cut and get into UA. None of them had really studied or trained together outside of school, all of them to some degree looking out for their own futures and seeing everyone else as the competition. But then they got jumped by one of the most well organized group of Villains seen in modern times and lines like ‘the kid that sits next to me’ got a little blurry. What Hera hadn’t expected was for the girls to swamp her with hugs and tears, or for Dark Shadow to envelop her in an excited hug Tokoyami himself was probably too shy to give her.

  
Kirishima and Bakugou had strode in with the tide about two minutes before the late bell, their eyes finding Hera at the center of a warm and fuzzy class pow wow, one Bakugou pointedly avoided. With a glare at poor Midorya who had committed the grand offense of breathing, Bakugou angrily took his seat, glaring down at Hera for daring to catch up with Midorya.

All Hera did in response was glare black at him before waving him off, not taking his shit for a second but also not willing to step on that particular landmine.

  
It was only after their class had arrived in full force that Hera explained about the wheelchair and that her bones were still healing a little. She didn’t even need to ask for assistance before nearly everyone in 1-A offered to push her around from class to class. It’s amazing what being forced to fight for your lives side by side can do to strengthen a relationship.

  
The bell rang and everyone scrambled to their seats, all on edge and half expecting a crazy strict substitute and not Aizawa himself, strolling in wrapped up like a mummy and looking like he just came back from the dead. After taking a brief moment to linger on his students' relieved faces, he took the roll and talked a little about their rapidly approaching Sports Festival. He promised to discuss their new curriculum in further detail later, however, like he hadn’t just dropped such a bomb on them after surviving a Villain attack and he just wanted a damn nap.

  
It was then Principal Nezu, Midnight, Cementos, Present Mic and even All Might entered the room, shattering any sense of normalcy Aizawa had attempted to grant his students. As if already knowing the shit storm that was to come, Aizawa sat down in his chair heavily, the stress coming off of their teacher in waves.  
Hera had not expected their immediate teachers and Principal Nezu himself to just waltz into their first homeroom, and she could feel the rest of her peers as on edge as she was, but luckily their teachers didn’t keep them in suspense for very long.

  
“What’s going on?” Mineta asked nervously, his default voice when he wasn’t being overconfident or vulgar. The simultaneous presence of their immediate teachers and so many distinguished Pros in the same room had everyone on edge. It was Principal Nezu who spoke first.

  
“On behalf of both myself and the entire UA faculty, we are sorry. It is truly embarrassing that we let an attack of such a scale happen on our watch, and know that we are doing our utmost to ensure that it does not happen again,” Principal Nezu began.

  
‘ _Yeah, actions speak louder than words_ ,’ Hera growled internally.

  
“We are here today to offer a proposal,” Principal Nezu continued, before dropping his own bomb that made Aizawa’s lazy announcement of the Sports Festival seem like a mere hand grenade. “If any of you do not wish to participate in the viewing, then your teachers and I will wholeheartedly understand. To those of you who wish to follow us to Ground Beta, we have acquired and have since edited the footage from the USJ. We have brought it here with us today.”

  
For a good few seconds, their class gaped at him, processing what the principal had just told them.

  
“Is this like for studying purposes? Or closure?” Hera blurted, containing her anger into a just simmering rage that captured everyone’s attention like nothing else. “I’m down for seeing what each of us may have done wrong and perhaps receive some constructive criticism about our fighting styles, but I’m not all about watching Ojiro and I get our heads beaten on a big screen.”

  
Principal Nezu continued, his words tailored to say the right things but almost lacking the emotion behind them, unsettling Hera even further than she already was. “I understand your concerns, and we do not wish to subject any of you to such traumas again. For this reason, we have edited out the more graphic scenes, particularly how you and Ojiro fared in the Fire Zone, Miss Gale.”

  
The class was quiet for a long moment while Hera mulled over the idea, before she crossed her arms defensively across her chest. Her answer would decide many of their own.

  
“Then I’m willing to watch it. I want to use this opportunity to better ourselves as fighters and hopefully as future Heroes,” Hera answered in a voice that sounded like hardened steel. “I also want to see the faces of the cowards that had the balls to hurt my friends and then run away with their tails between their legs,” she spat uncensored, her voice infinitely calmer than she felt, and it was all Hera could do to keep the sky outside free of any clouds or rain.

  
“I understand,” Principal Nezu acknowledged her opinion with a respectful nod, before asking the rest of the class how they felt about the idea. “We can do this all at once if the class vote is unanimous, but those unwilling to watch the surveillance feed are free to wait in either the library, the gym, or the cafeteria.”

  
The only teacher who wasn’t surprised by Class 1-A’s uniform decision was Aizawa, as he knew his students far better than most of the other teachers.

  
“Well are we gonna sit around all day or watch the damn footage already?!” Bakugou blurted as if on cue, voicing the anxiety that threatened to cripple the room. Ida was out of his seat in a heartbeat to reprimand him, and for the first time since Hera started attending UA, she felt at ease in the noise and the chaos of her crazy classmates.

* * *

Hagakure had ended up winning the rock paper scissors contest which determined who would wheel Hera to Ground Beta, a match that will forever go down in infamy amongst the students of 1-A. The rest of her peers had vowed to battle it out similarly at the end of each class, and it almost didn’t feel like they were all about to rewatch their friends being attacked by Villains and fight for their lives. The tone quickly soured once they had all arrived in the control room of Ground Beta, which was sleek with new repairs thanks to Hera having destroyed it only weeks ago.

  
The lighting in the control room was just as dark as Hera had remembered it, but something about returning to the area had set her on edge. All at once, Hera started to feel an overwhelming sense of uneasiness, the spacious room suddenly feeling claustrophobic. The walls warped and closed in around her, and it was the familiar tug in Hera’s stomach that told her she was probably already making it rain on the surface. But she couldn’t even see the sky, and not knowing the current state of the atmosphere above them was starting to get to her.

  
Leaning heavily against the leather backing of her wheelchair, Hera closed her eyes and fought to even out her breathing as noticeably as possible. The last thing she needed was to be sent out of the room because her teachers thought the footage was what was setting her off, when this particular panic attack was another story altogether.

  
However, Hera was surrounded by Pro Heroes - and future ones to be - who could sense an anxiety attack a city away, so concealing what she was failing so desperately not to feel was near impossible. Aizawa wordlessly crossed the room to stand in front of her, not saying anything but just being there for her, waiting patiently for an explanation he knew Hera would give as soon as she could breathe.

  
“It’s not-” Hera swallowed, hiding her face in her hands as she rested her elbows on her knees, a bead of sweat rolling down her temple. “It’s not because of the USJ...I guess returning to the place where I almost killed all of my classmates with my Quirk...is messing with me? I’ll calm down in a minute just...please just get on with this and play the footage. I need something else to focus on right now. A-Anything else...”

  
Aizawa regarded Hera for a tense few seconds, before finally announcing his ultimatum. “The moment I think you need to step out for a moment you’re done.”

  
It was then that Todoroki came to stand by Hera’s side.

  
“She won’t need to,” he stated simply, four words that were enough to give Hera the strength to combat against the adrenaline running through her veins like ice. Others followed suit soon after Todoroki had set the example, Bakugou making himself at home on her other side, along with Kiri and the rest of the Bakusquad. Yaoyorozu came to stand next to Todoroki, and soon the entirety of Class 1-A was huddled on the floor next to Hera, leaving her to tower over them in her wheelchair.

  
“I love all of you idiots, but my God ya’ll are so friggn’ cheesy,” Hera complained, ignoring how her heart fluttered at the close proximity of so many of her classmates.

  
“Well it appears you’re stuck with them,” Aizawa shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, before commanding Present Mic to pop in a flash drive into the wall-sized tv and hit play.

* * *

The Heroes had started from the beginning, at the horrifying moment Kurogiri’s Warp Gate appeared and allowed the Villains into the USJ. They reviewed how both Aizawa and their class analyzed the situation given what little information they received and wasted no time in creating a game plan. The Villains boasted confidently that the crazy monster they called Nomu was strong enough to take on All Might. With their main target unexpectedly absent, they decided to take out their anger on the students for kicks, hoping that the Number One Hero would show up soon enough.

Aizawa ordered Thirteen to protect the students at all costs before throwing himself into combat. Despite being greatly outnumbered, their homeroom teacher was able to take out the League’s Firing Squad, namely any and all Villains with dangerous projectile-like Quirks. Then Kurogiri appeared before the students, but before Thirteen could take him out with her Black Hole, Bakugou and Kirishima had rushed into a fight and had gotten in the way. Their poor judgement gave Kurogiri the opportunity he needed to separate the students, scattering them all across the USJ.

  
The camera footage split into several separate screens, each showing the students as they all got their bearings. The teachers focused on the Entrance, where the students who had not been Warped away made getting Ida outside to send word to the Heroes their top priority. Uraraka, Sato, and those at the Entrance not tending to Thirteen’s injuries were praised by Aizawa and the other teachers for their quick thinking in combat and excellent teamwork. They managed to skillfully work together and utilize their diverse Quirks completely in sync, their efforts the reason Ida was later able to get back up and return with the Pros.

  
Tsuyu and Mineta had received similar praise in the Shipwreck Zone for their performances and bravery. Midorya was complimented briefly for his excellent strategizing...before he was ultimately reprimanded for injuring his fingers after using his Quirk. The three escaped the Shipwreck Zone and made their way towards the Entrance to regroup with the others, prompting their teachers to switch the feed over to the next fight.

  
Within a crumbling building in the Collapse Zone, Kirishima and Bakugou were faring rather well, their Quirks well suited for close combat with little room to maneuver. For a while Bakugou looked like he was having the time of his life, blasting Villains left and right. Kirishima provided offense as well as defense, as skilled in combat as Bakugou but having nowhere near his friend’s reflexes or sharp situational awareness.

  
Hera didn’t need to look behind her to know that Kirishima and Bakugou were sulking in their seats, still feeling guilty for getting in Thirteen’s way and hardly soaking up the praise from their teachers.

  
The video cut to the Landslide Zone, where Todoroki was subduing Villains without even batting an eyelash. It was when he threatened to freeze one Villain completely unless he gave him information as to their motives that something really resonated with Hera. Todoroki’s anger, his refusal to use his flames when his fire could have proved to be just as threatening as his ice. If their teachers had seen it then they hadn’t addressed it, instead chewing him out for being too reliant on his Quirk. In contrast, Hagakure had been praised for keeping out of sight for as long as she had, taking out what Villains she could unnoticed to ease the load on Todoroki where she could.

  
Aizawa had given Momo and Jiro good enough reviews for managing to remain calm in their rapidly deteriorating situation. On the flip side, Present Mic had chewed out Kaminari for risking it all on one big attack that in the end rendered him useless in combat, leaving his friends to fend for themselves.

  
Over in the Squall Zone, an unlikely duo soon became the perfect tag team. Although Koda’s Quirk was essentially useless without the presence of animals, the boy had somehow summoned up the courage to become a diversion. Tokoyami and Dark Shadow used the darkness to their advantage, stealthing it out in the alleys before taking their adversaries by surprise. Between the two of them, it wasn’t long before they had overtaken the Squall Zone. Like many of their peers, Tokoyami and Koda had at first opted to regroup with their friends at the Entrance, until a tornado of fire in the distance drew them over to the Fire Zone.

  
Hera visibly cringed upon seeing the flaming vortex, but so far everyone around her thought it was caused by a Villain, rather than by her. The footage focused on Ojiro, the Pros complimenting him on his maneuverability in the air as he leapt from building to building using his powerful tail. He dodged Villains and their onslaughts easily, and it was obvious that close to mid range combat was his specialty. Apart from the fire and suffocating smoke, the terrain couldn’t have been better suited to his fighting style.

  
Then the feed cut over to Hera, who was also fairly comfortable with hand to hand combat. However, Hera had been incredibly more ruthless, the ferocity with which she fought drawing in the attention of everyone present. The thing that struck them most was not only Hera’s quick reflexes and situational awareness, but also how calm she looked. She almost looked...at ease, and very much not like someone being jumped by over twenty thugs.

  
The fight went on like this for a good fifteen minutes of intense close range combat, and it was only then when Hera started to bust out her Quirk. Throughout the fighting she had only used her wind here and there to keep her adversaries at bay, but Hera was still able to concentrate enough of her attention towards the sky. And her exhaustion was starting to show.

  
Hera’s classmates looked on in awe and shock when she had disarmed the woman with the knife, pinning her to the ground by lodging it in her hand. This stunt was topped only after Hera fired off the ammunition of the gun she stole from another Villain into the ground...before beating him with it.

  
“Well she’s certainly...resourceful?” Present Mic attempted to make what Hera could only assume was a compliment.

  
“They weren’t exactly holding back on me either. I could have easily used that knife or that gun against them, but like Hell I was taking the easy way out,” Hera defended, shaking her head in disgust. “Bunch of damned cowards is what they were.”

  
Then darkening clouds gathered above the Fire Zone, churning the atmosphere like a blender until a plume of mist reached towards the ground like a grim reaper. It was clear that Hera was gearing up for something big.

  
It was the fire tornado that finally had the Pros pausing the video, slowing it down to play instead frame by frame in an effort to capture every detail happening in the moment. The tornado had caught fire no sooner than the second it had touched the ground, distracting the majority of the Villains while Hera blinded the rest with a bolt of lightning to make her escape.

  
Her peers gaped at her like she had grown a second head. She sunk lower into her desk, wanting nothing more than to not be the center of attention.

  
“And when exactly were you going to tell us you could do that?” Aizawa questioned Hera, his voice still muffled through his bandages.

  
“Uh....now? Not sure if the fire was me or because I was in the Fire Zone, but technically fire tornados are a thing? There’s videos online of them happening in California during their wildfire seasons, ” Hera shrugged nervously. “...But it gets worse.”

  
“What do you mean ‘worse’?” Midnight asked curiously.

  
Hera pulled a bottle of water out of her backpack, placing it on her desk - or on Hagakure’s desk - and removed the paper label. After a few seconds, the water inside began to slosh and swirl, forcing off the cap with enough pressure to pop like a gunshot, scaring the shit out of Shouji, who was sitting right beside her and hadn’t expected the noise.

  
“Uhhhh…..so I haven’t really practiced with the water yet since I just got out of the hospital, but water is apparently a thing that I can mess with,” Hera explained, rubbing the back of her head nervously and explaining that she discovered this new ability in the hospital. “My dad could manipulate electricity within buildings, and my mom could manipulate the water vapor low level clouds, and I am apparently Thor’s cousin.”

  
From behind her, Bakugou managed to stifle a dry laugh with a grimace. Hera was almost as awkward as friggin' Deku, but at least she was a better talker. However, Bakugou could sense her lack of confidence through her facade, Hera’s shaking hands giving her away as she spoke.

  
“Don’t worry, kid,” Aizawa assured Hera. “We’ll be sure to get you back on track, and keep your Quirk in check.”

  
Mineta had left his seat and was now bowing down at Hera’s feet.

  
“That’s it! Hera-chan is the Sky Goddess and no one can convince me otherwise! Please my Queen, allow me to pledge my loyalty to you! You may step on this lowly servant whenever you wish-!” was thankfully all Grape-Rape was able to say before Aizawa hog tied him at the front of the room for the rest of the video. All Might somehow managed to diffuse the situation, but only after Mineta was sentenced to several detentions and a class concerning women’s rights and their undying consent.

  
Their teachers promised to discuss getting Hera some more personalized training later, continuing the footage. It cut over to her reunion with Ojiro, the relief on Hera’s exhausted face. Ojiro giving Hera a piggyback across the Fire Zone, reaching the edge of it only to be knocked out of the sky by Villains.

  
“What?! There was a pterodactyl? A pterodactyl actually happened?” Hera exclaimed as the footage revealed her first blow to the head, knocking Ojiro off balance and sending them four stories to the ground. “Danggg….we fell that far?”

  
“How much of this do you actually remember?” Ojiro asked from beside her as the video continued to play, Aizawa not sensing any fear or dread from either of them, and therefore continuing to play through the feed.

  
“Well the first blow and then waking up on the ground, but not the fall itself,” Hera informed him. “Then one or two more hits and nothing until I woke up with Shoji and the others at the Entrance.”

  
The teachers fast forwarded through the next harrowing seconds, Present Mic trying and failing to obscure the blurred images of Hera and Ojiro with some stupid dance in front of the wall-like screen. Cue the pipe wielding motherfucker on a dragon knocking them out of the air. What little their classmates had seen turned several stomachs, before the video continued on to show Tokoyami and Koda coming to their rescue.

  
Dark Shadow had pulled out all of the stops, and it was all Tokoyami could do to rein him in while Koda tended to Hera and Ojiro. Koda’s timidness evaporated, replaced by the desperate drive to halt their bleeding wounds while Tokoyami finished off the remaining Villains in their zone. Their teachers complemented Koda on his quick thinking, also understanding that Tokoyami did all he could to control his Quirk who had a mind of its own.

  
With both Hera and Ojiro out of commission, the Squall Zone survivors were left vulnerable as they carried their friends across the rest of the USJ. With incredible stealth, the four of them had made it, and Hera was beginning to see just how fortunate she and Ojiro had been. The feed cut to Hera waking up at the Entrance, her body screaming out in agony as relief flooded through her to wake up amongst friends rather than enemies.

  
“I owe both of you guys a hug,” Hera glanced behind her gratefully at Tokoyami and Koda. “A platonic one with no alternate meaning other than sheer gratitude,” she expanded smugly at the sight of both boys blushing red, and concerned looks from every teacher present that wasn’t Midnight. 

  
The Pros went on to analyze the fight between the Nomu and All Might, the true details of how the number one hero received his injuries conveniently glossed over. Until Hera stole the spotlight once again. Swirling clouds appeared overhead and rapidly darkened into something threatening, none of the Villains knowing who was doing it or exactly what was about to hit them next.

  
The Nomu lunged for Bakugou, but thankfully Hera’s lightning was faster. The bolt stunned the Nomu long enough for All Might to swoop in and get Bakugou out of harm’s way. Once the Nomu was far enough away from the others, Hera held nothing back. Steeling herself, she summoned an onslaught of lightning, raining down upon the monster as if it had pissed off the Gods themselves. Ignoring her pain, Hera forced her face to remain as neutral as the rest of her horrified classmates, mirroring their expressions within her own so the Villains couldn’t signal her out.

  
It was after eight bolts of lightning that the Pros finally arrived, Hera fainting with the knowledge that her friends were going to make it out alive.

  
“Even after a period of prolonged and intense combat, Miss Gale was able to use her abilities extensively, and rather well under such dire circumstances,” Cementos added, his tone of awe and praise. “Especially having not used your Quirk for over four years.”

  
Hera glared at Cementos, her eyes as threatening as they were pleading for him to shut up. She would definitely be hearing about this later from at least some of her classmates. Hopefully she could play it off as trauma from accidentally barbecuing her school bully, and not destroying half of her city with a tornado that broke the Fujita scale.

  
“At least now we have a better understanding about the multiple aspects of your Quirk,” Aizawa sighed, trying like hell to be positive, an obvious effort for him.

“Ordinarily, the students’ educational workload is lightened the month prior to the Sports Festival. Apart from mandatory training within school hours, students of UA are free to train and use the facilities as they wish. However, both Hera and Midorya are a special case,” Aizawa continued. “With Quirks so underused and new to each of you, the two of you will have to proceed with far more caution. Your training will be monitored by faculty at all times, due to the destructive power of your Quirks, and to the incredible toll it seems to take on your bodies.”

  
Hera and Midorya shared a glance, both equally full of skepticism as they were determination, regarding one another as one would a future rival.

  
“Then I guess we better not mess this up,” Hera leaned back in her wheelchair. “When do we start?”

  
“Immediately,” Aizawa stated resolutely, seeing through Hera’s tough front like wet paper on a window.

  
“And now onto something more lighthearted!” Present Mic boomed in his radio voice without any warning. Aizawa only rolled his eyes at him. The footage Present Mic played would change their lives forever. The movie theatre screen on the wall went black while the Hero busied himself hooking up his personal phone to the system.

  
“You better play the right video,” Aizawa had threatened Mic under his breath, so quietly the students hadn’t heard him. Then Bakugou, Kirishima and Ojiro came into view. They were in a hospital, and standing at Hera’s bedside, and to her horror she was crying. Hera watched as past Hera on too much morphine reached out for a hug from each of the guys, laughing out loud as the guys had a gay tizzy about it.

  
“Do you always stalk your students?” Hera questioned Mic, “Or were you already there to visit someone?”

  
“This grump, actually,” Present Mic jabbed a thumb at Aizawa, and a few things finally made sense in Hera’s head. She turned her attention back to the monitor as Ojiro and Kirishima surrendered their hugs with only a little hesitation, Bakugou giving in only after Hera had gotten all emotional on him.

  
“You two fucks tell anyone about this and I’m gonna put you bastards in the damn ground,” Bakugou had growled in promise.

  
“Jesus…” Hera had chuckled, knowing their class bully was a big softie deep down. Wayyyyy deeeeep down.

  
“But Bakubro,” drugged Hera had whined. “Kiro and Oji aren’t flowers. You can’t plant them. I won’t let you.” This had their class absolutely rolling with laughter, including some of the Pro teachers because they got to see an unexpected new side to their cranky blond problem child.

The video ended with Present Mic running into Aizawa’s hospital room and ending the footage with, “Dude you’re not gonna believe this!”

  
And now Bakugou was attempting to kill Present Mic.


	15. Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Heads up, this chapter has some mentions of mental illness and suicide. Sometimes my writing can get a little to real, but Hera's guilt and self destructiveness completely ties into a lot of her character and to the plot of my story as well. As someone who has struggled with my own levels of mental issues, I would like to advocate that it is alright to ask someone for help. As soon as you realize that you really do need it. 
> 
> When I found that I didn't feel comfortable confiding in my friends or family members, I found some solace actually talking to some fellow anime nerds on Discord actually. I found their group chat entirely by accident but they were all my age and more than welcoming. I pop in there every once in a while to check in on them, and the five of us have taken to both venting and listening to one another. If not for this happy accident, I was honestly considering downloading one of those free mental health apps on my phone to talk to a trained professional from the privacy of my own phone. 
> 
> It all depends on what you need, I just personally found that trusting a group of dorks like me with similar struggles was easier for me.

* * *

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Fifteen

The rest of Hera’s day fell relatively flat. Counselors came to speak to them individually to gauge where their class was on a mental and emotional level as a whole, and then it was off to Lunch Rush. Hera popped into the infirmary to get her vitals checked after she ate, this time wheeled across campus by Jiro. The remainder of their academic classes attempted to cram a week's worth of missed content and homework into one, and by the time the last bell rang all of their heads were spinning.

As for their Hero Studies after school, Hera had no choice but to watch over her friends from the sidelines, though she used this time to gauge their fighting styles as best she could. Anything to help give her an edge during the Sports Festival. Once that part of their day was met, Hera retreated to the library to do a little studying with Ida and Midoriya, who had helpfully wheeled her over. When a soft alarm buzzed on her phone to signal it was time for dinner, the boys offered to return Hera to her dorm, as it was also close to curfew. Hera had corrected them then, informing the two that she was sentenced to sleep in the infirmary until further notice.

“Ah, forgive us for assuming otherwise,” Ida apologized gentlemanly, dramatically changing course towards Recovery Girl’s office so hard it almost gave Hera whiplash, while Midoriya fought to keep up with them.

“Are you really still hurt that badly?” Midoriya had asked worriedly, looking Hera over for some magically appearing injury he may have missed. “

The doctors said that my bones are basically healed, but I’m still suffering from a bit of Quirk fatigue,” Hera informed them tiredly, sounding as exhausted as she looked. “Recovery Girl also said I’m technically still on seizure watch.”

Ida made a shocked sound, before praising that he trusted Recovery Girl’s judgement. ‘Better safe than sorry,’ Ida had said. Midoriya’s eyes had fallen to his feet, guilt etching itself easily into his expression familiarly, and Hera instantly regretted ever mentioning the whole seizure thing. Midoryia had been there - Hera had heard from the others - witnessed her seizure in the helpless arms of the paramedics while she bled out - with a front row seat.

Hera gestured for Ida to stop pushing her, speaking only when she knew she had their full attention.

“Deku, Ida,” Hera glared at them both, “What happened to me at the USJ was not your fault. I stopped using my Quirk for three years and then went all-out against a bunch of Villains. How the fuck were we supposed to know we’d be attacked by a damned Villain syndicate during our first year at UA within a campus facility?”

“Bu-But you almost-” Midoriya began to say but just couldn’t voice the rest, prompting Ida to interject. “Our experiences at the USJ have had an understandably negative impact upon us all,” Ida began, his voice full of mixed emotions, but he managed to keep his tone as steady as he was able. “However, we now know what our shortcomings are. Now we have a starting point, whereas before our class seemed to be floundering about with goals that couldn’t be more different from one another. What we need to do now is focus on our training, to become stronger. Let’s pray that the next time trouble finds us, should we be so unlucky, that we will no longer be the victims of another tragedy.”

“Woah,” Hera gaped at Ida, before killing the mood immediately with an oh so eloquent, “that was the dopest shit I think I’ve ever heard you say. There’s hope for you yet.”

Midoriya got on his tiptoes to whisper into Ida’s ear, “I think she means Plus Ultra?” Ida’s face lit up in understanding.

“Ah,” he nodded, thankful for the translation.

“She does,” Hera confirmed in third person as they carted her off to the Infirmary. Hopefully it would be her last night there, and she’d be able to get back down to business and train sooner rather than later.

* * *

A few days later Hera was back on her feet and completely cleared to continue with her Hero training. She hit the ground running, wasting no time catching back up to her classmates, though Hera decided it best to hold back some. Exhausting herself before the Sports Festival would get her nowhere, and Hera planned on coming up with a few new tricks to surprise her friends. Hopefully the Pros and the Media will find her efforts at least somewhat entertaining. She started with some weight training after classes ended for the day to help rebuild her strength, jogging only on the treadmills due the ease of their rhythm before eventually graduating to running outside on the turf.

Hera knew it would be child’s play regaining her stamina with her usual exercises. It was her Quirk training that truly worried her.

Later that night, her mind grew far too restless to allow her to get any semblance of sleep. Her muscles ached from the grueling grinds of the day, her body screaming for some sort of relief. You know, like some sleep, but after tossing and turning for hours, she decided that it just wasn’t meant to be. Hera soon found herself in the common room of her lonely dorm at two am, with every light turned on and even the tv on in the background in an effort to ease her nerves. She brought along a textbook and some notes to look over in an attempt to distract her mind with studying, but nothing seemed to keep her focus.

Pushing her Hero textbooks aside with a sigh, Hera opened up her laptop and began searching through images of every cloud type known to man. She mentally categorized how they were formed and under which conditions, jotting down a few notes next to their descriptions and definitions in her notes. Hera took note of her handwriting and mentally cringed, hoping that future and less sleep deprived Hera would be able to decipher her own chicken scratch later.

It was only after being pushed passed her limits that made Hera realize just how little she knew about her Quirk. Her lack of control seemed to not just be from her failure to use her abilities, but the magnitude in which she did. Even small puffs of air were difficult for Hera to control sometimes when deflecting a projectile or a person, and it was only after the USJ fiasco that she realized she could create weather indoors. Hera pinched the bridge of her nose as a telling headache began to bloom in her temples.

Tornadoes on fire, actual water bending like in that one show she watched as a kid, lightning. Probably other shit, too? Just learning to control one of these aspects was insanity, but all of them? With only three weeks left until the Sports Festival and the school’s facilities almost completely booked up for training, Hera’s anxieties were only multiplying.

She needed to be inside a building to train, free from prying eyes - where the entire campus couldn’t see what she was working on by looking up at the sky. She needed to talk to Aizawa and see if there were any openings anywhere on campus she could book so she could get to work. She needed to study so that she wouldn’t lose her place in the Hero Course. UA needed to work out for her. Hera needed to make this work, Japan was her last chance.

There was nothing left for her in America, no family besides Samuel, nothing but broken dreams and empty cornfields - the concrete slab where her house used to be.

Oh yeah, she hadn’t been in much contact with Sam lately. Hera thought that she should really contact him soon. She had been so immersed with adjusting to her new life at UA and keeping up with everyone that Hera had only sent the occasional text here or there to let him know how she was doing. The last thing Hera wanted was to appear ungrateful now that she was all set up at UA, when it was Sam that was slaving outside on his farm all day just to pay her tuition.

Hera’s head was spinning, and she didn’t notice the tears stinging in the corner of her eyes until her phone chimed lightly with a call. It was Todoroki, which was odd considering the time and the fact that he had never called her before.

“Hey man,” Hera offered, sounding every bit as confused as she felt. “What’s up?” because this was Todoroki, and the guy didn’t seem like the type for pointless small talk at two am. “It’s raining here,” Todoroki informed her plainly, but his tone didn’t come off as accusing. He sounded alert, like he’d been up for a while, and Hera wondered if he was having trouble sleeping too. “I checked the radar app on my phone but it doesn’t show any rain showers in the area, just over our city.”

Hera checked herself and took a few deep breaths she prayed Todoroki couldn’t hear over the phone. “Yeah I think it is me, sorry. I didn’t even realize I was doing it,” Hera sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Did the rain wake you up?”

“I figured as much,” Todoroki surmised neutrally. “And no, I was already awake.” He went quiet then, and Hera thought she could hear the sound of a man yelling in the background off in the distance, perhaps in another room or down a hallway. After a few long seconds of silence, Hera spoke first.

“...The majority of the scars on my back...were my own fault. From a few times when I lost control of my Quirk,” Hera began, not sure why she was bringing this up in the first place when Todoroki likely wasn’t even aware of them, but the words slipped out anyway. “But I have plenty...from my biological parents also. I’m not trying to divert the conversation, or tell you that I can completely understand whatever it is you're going through, because I don't. But I’m here if you need me. Not even to talk, but if you ever just need some quiet company, or a training buddy to use as a punching bag to help you forget shit.”

When all she was met with was silence, Hera was quick to cover her ass in embarrassment, fearing she had overstepped her boundaries.

“I-I mean we only just met so um- if I made you uncomfortable then just hang up on me, or tell me to fuck off, or we can talk about literally anything else, or-”

“Thank you,” Todoroki calmly interjected when the rain outside his home began to waver and then pour down in sporadic gusts of wind. “I’ll remember it,” and that was all he said for a tense but not uncomfortable moment before continuing their previous conversation. “Were you unable to sleep as well?”

“I...I sort of suffer from anxiety attacks,” Hera caved, catching herself when she gripped at her wrist holding her phone with her free hand, and stopping the action with an effort. It was never easy talking about how damaged she was, and a decent part of Hera hoped her extra emotional baggage wouldn't scare him away when he was one of the first friends she made in years.

“Sort of?” Todoroki wondered patiently aloud, his worry only deepening when the rain outside suddenly ceased altogether.

“Like a panic attack is usually triggered by something, right? When I stress out it's usually multiple things that set me off. On my first day at UA, I was a mess. A new country, a new school, my entire future riding on me succeeding and becoming a Hero. I can’t fail. There’s nothing left for me in America,” Hera sighed, forcing herself to breathe more slowly to calm the clouds outside. “I ran into some bully and I was crying in the girls bathroom and fighting to get my shit together before homeroom,” Hera laughed at the irony of it all now. “Ha, it was actually Bakugou. Don’t ask me why I became that asshole’s friend because even that escapes me, but I just think that he puts up a front. He’s nothing but a big softie. Dude’s just got some serious issues.”

Todoroki listened intently to what she had to say, making a mental note to punch Bakugou at least once at the earliest opportunity. Perhaps during one of their training exercises…

“Anyhoo,” Hera waved the thoughts away, Todooki snapping to attention at the sound of her voice as she continued. “It’s rare that I actually ever straight up bawl my eyes out over anything that upsets me, and never in front of other people. But I let things pile up and eat away at me until I find myself alone, and then I just...fall apart? Sometimes I stress out to the point that I can’t breathe and either activate my Quirk...or pass out. Whichever happens first. But then there’s times when I can't shut my mind off, and if it gets bad enough then I can go days without being able to sleep...it’s awful.”

“...How long have you been struggling with this?” Todoroki asked, his concern taking Hera by surprise. It almost reminded her of Sam, and Hera didn’t quite know what to do about it, grateful tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “With all of these symptoms?”

Hera laughed ruefully then. “Probably for as long as I’ve ever been struggling,” she confided honestly. “It got worse after...I lost my parents in an accident. They would get drunk or high off of whatever, and sometimes they would argue or get violent. There was an entrance to the attic in my closet with a fold up ladder, so when they would come after me I would barricade my door and hide in the attic where they couldn’t get to me until they either lost interest or passed out in the hallway.”

Todoroki couldn’t think of anything to say, but similar horrors played across his own mind from traumas he had survived. When Hera tentatively asked if things were too dark and if he wanted to change the subject, Todoroki was quick to find his voice.

“Sorry, please continue,” he assured her. “This is probably going to sound terrible, but I’m actually finding some level of...comfort in your stories? Which is absurd, because you went through something so horrible. You deserve to be treated far better.”

When Hera eventually replied again, Todoroki could tell that she was attempting to hide the fact that she was crying. “You too,” was all she managed to choke out, pressing on only after she was finally able to breathe. “I still do it sometimes.”

“Do what?” Todoroki asked, confused as to what she meant.

“Hide in my closet,” Hera admitted. “Or in any small space really, when I’m feeling scared or anxious. I sleep with tons of pillows, which is a pain in the ass to tidy up when I actually decide to make my bed. But I pile them up all around me and it makes me feel safe.”

“It’s probably psychological,” Todoroki ventured, as he mentally tried to analyze her impulses to help Hera make some sense of them, hoping he hadn't come off as too dry or clinical.

“God, please don’t think I’m some kind of basket case after this,” Hera laughed nervously. “I promise I’m not some psycho Villain in the making.”

“I find you to be plenty sane,” Todoroki told Hera easily, and as she was racking her brain to figure out anything to say to keep the conversation going, Todoroki spoke again.

“I can’t sleep with my back facing a door. I need to be facing one in order to fall asleep. My father...used to drag me out of bed in the middle of the night whenever he wanted me to train with him. He would shake me awake and...it’s not often anymore, but sometimes I wake up swinging.”

“I know what you mean,” Hera empathized. “To feel like an anomaly in your own home. To always be in survival mode instead of actually living.” ‘ _To wish you had never been born_ ,’ Hera thought but bit back the words, hesitant.

Talking with someone on equal footing like this felt like a blessing. Fuck if she would ruin whatever this friendship thing was with Todoroki now by adding suicidal, self loathing comments into the mix. The last thing Hera wanted was to be...too much. She opted instead for something a little lighter.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“If you’re willing to share?” Todoroki answered curiously, sounding genuine and open. “...I still sleep with stuffed animals,” Hera whispered as if someone somewhere would overhear her, chuckling awkwardly. “Lame right? I act all edgy and standoff-ish, but I’m totally weak to anything even remotely cute.”

Todoroki chuckled, finding the scenes Hera painted easier to picture then he initially thought. His eyes wandered to the alarm clock beside his futon, illuminating a soft neon light that read four in the morning.

“We should probably try to get some sleep before school. I apologize for keeping you awake.”

Hera shook her head, even though he couldn't see it. “Don’t worry about it. I might actually be calm enough to get some sleep now, and it was nice talking to someone. See you tomorrow.”

“Likewise,” Todoroki replied with what sounded like a smile in his voice. “Sleep well.”

“You too. Night,” Hera mumbled as the exhaustion really started to hit her, hanging up the phone and setting her alarm to wake up, before tossing it across the couch. She pulled her comforter up to her nose and snuggled deeper into the cushions, too content to make the trip upstairs to her room. She was out within minutes, but this time Hera’s dreams were free of any nightmares.

* * *

Hera sought out Aizawa the next morning, catching him after their homeroom had ended and asking him if there were any open slots in any of the campus gymnasiums. Scratching his head lazily, her tired teacher flipped aimlessly through some paperwork, deadpanning when he found what he needed.

"Gym Gamma had four openings this week. The slots are two hours each, from four am to six am. That’s all that hasn’t already been booked out,” he told her simply.

“I’ll take all of them. Thank you,” Hera bowed her head slightly in gratitude, not hesitating to take whatever she could get at this point. She knew it was going to royally mess with her sleeping schedule, but Hera supposed that beggars can’t be choosers.

“On one condition,” Aizawa continued. Hera held her breath, stealing her nerves to take whatever obstacle he was about to throw at her. “You need at least one other person to accompany you. I don’t want to hear about you passing out on the concrete for some unknown amount of time from Quirk Exhaustion because you pushed yourself too hard. That’s final. Whoever you bring can be either a faculty member or a fellow student, I don’t care which.”

“I understand. I promise I won’t waste this opportunity,” Hera vowed, exiting the room and making her way to her next class with both purpose and rapidly compounding anxiousness.

The slots she had taken were Monday through Thursday. As today was Friday, Hera would have to make good use of her time until then. She would train, but not too heavily. Hera knew she was gonna need to rest up for the coming days. She ended up spending the afternoon with Tokoyami and some of the guys, studying a bit before hitting the turf to do some drills.

But by the time Saturday morning finally rolled around, Hera was restless with cabin fever. She wondered vaguely if any of her classmates were free to hang out, or if they were all too busy preparing for the Sports Festival. Hera wanted so badly to just hit someone up to hang out, but a sudden pang of insecurity stilled her hand as she reached for her phone to text them. What if her classmates didn't want to waste their time frolicking around town with her when they could be training? Or worse, what if her peers were insulted that she didn’t seem to be taking her own training seriously? If they were giving their all, would someone be upset with her for taking the afternoon off and act all high and mighty? Hera swallowed, feeling her stomach dropping while her chest tightened with her anxiousness, and it was then that she knew she was dangerously close to having a panic attack.

She scoffed self-loathingly, embarrassed that something as common as social anxiety had set her off this time, instead of something bigger. Or maybe it was big because here she was, pacing around her room at nine in the morning when she probably should have slept in. Her conversation with Todoroki last night had helped ease at least some of her nerves. But Hera knew she needed some form of adventure to help herself relax a bit before the Sports Festival closed in on her and stole away the rest of her free time.

Her phone chimed then, temporarily snapping Hera away from her thoughts. Hera smiled when she saw that it was Kirishima, before cringing internally when she saw his message.

‘Hey are you ok? It was totally sunny a few seconds ago and now it looks like it’s gonna pour.’

‘Sorry, I’m not accusing you or anything if it’s not you or if you’re training! Bakugou and I were in the dorms’ weight room when we heard the thunder.’

‘Haha ^.^’ you got me? Sorry about that. I was just thinking too much about something stupid, that’s all. Lol I actually did the same thing last night when I couldn’t sleep.’

‘And aww Bakubro is actually worried about someone? We must be softening him up~’

‘Haha! Don’t let him hear you say that.’

‘What were you thinking about? Anything we can help out with?’

‘Careful Kiri, I doubt Bakubro would be alright with you offering his help out to others without his consent. Thx tho.’

‘So everything is ok?’ Kirishima asked again when Hera dodged the question.

‘Just feeling a bit restless, that’s all. All I’ve seen of Japan so far was an airport in Tokyo, UA campus, and a hospital. I want to go out into town or something before I get all overwhelmed with my training before the Sports Fest.’ ‘I’ve been starting to have some trouble sleeping lately and I think I’m just stressed. What with Villains and shit attacking us and all.’

‘Aw that’s right! We never took you out to show you the sights! Hang on while I talk to Bakugou.’

‘Yikes, good luck my dude,’ Hera teased, knowing that asking Bakugou for literally anything was like poking a bear with a hot iron rod. A few minutes later, it was Bakugou that ended up responding to her.

‘Where the fuck are you?’

‘Shit, if I tell you are ya gonna murder me?’ Hera jested, laughing out loud at his prickly nature, even when the guy tried like Hell to be nice. ‘Also I’m not even sure I can leave campus without permission from the teachers anyway. T^T Hopefully they’ll let me go out.’

‘I will kill you if you keep being a smart ass, Short Stack!’ Bakugou had snapped back in reply, but it wasn’t in all caps so Hera thought that maybe he was in a good mood. ‘And stop worrying like some grandma. I’ll ask for permission, so get ready. You got twenty minutes. We’ll come kidnap you at the dorms.’

‘Kidnap? Whoa Bakubro, I didn’t know that you were into that sort of thing~ Are you holding my son Kiri as hostage to get to little ol’ me? The audacity! I suppose I’ll go get ready for my final day on this Earth as a free woman. Please just spare my son, Kiri. I have only just adopted him.’

A long silence followed then, and Hera half prayed that she didn’t set him off or ruin his fragile teenage mood. She could only imagine the string of curses flying out of his mouth right now, and Hera made a mental note to ask Kirishima about it later.

‘Where the fuck did we even find you? Eccentric shithead,’ Bakugou angrily typed.

'Well I did run into you in that hallway on the first day of class, didn't I?' Hera reminded him.

'I’m not gonna ask again.’

Hera sighed in defeat. ‘...I might be having breakfast/lunch? over in my dorm room, saying my goodbyes to this world while picking out something to wear~’ Hera typed before pulling on a fitted dark turtleneck with long sleeves, along with a matching black pair of sweatpants and a worn pair of sneakers. The last thing she wanted was to look like the resident circus freak, especially if she was going to be standing next to Kirishima and Bakugou out in public. The heat of summer still clung to the air despite it being early autumn, but Hera wanted to keep her scars covered.

It wasn’t as if she was embarrassed by them. No. It was the memory of what she had attempted to do in her darkest hour. To give up on herself, and on everything she knew. Hera felt way too unattractive to flaunt her scars around unless it was just during training, and the guys looked like Gods. Hera laughed to herself as she threw on a beanie to complete the look. If they were Gods then Kirishima was the God of Manliness, and Bakugou would give Aries a run for his money for the God of War.

Around twenty minutes later Hera heard Mr. Angry pounding on the front door of the dorms, demanding that she ‘hurry the fuck up, or else,’ while Kirishima muttered ‘chill out, man.’ Hera opened the door with one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face at their banter, thankfully before the blond took it upon himself to literally blast the entrance in.

“Aw, someone’s excited~” Hera teased as she stepped outside to join them. The guys gave her a once over, Kirishima flushing a bit and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he complimented Hera’s sense of style. Bakugou was more critical, but Hera hadn’t expected him to just play nice.

“The Hell are you wearing?” Bakugou began, still looking Hera over as if he could change her outfit by sheer will alone, like she was an avatar in a game. “It's hot as shit outside.”

“You’re wearing black too,” Hera accused as she headed for the school gates. Bakugou had donned a black skull t-shirt and was sagging a matching pair of dark jeans, while Kirishima was wearing a loose sleeveless white tank with red shorts that did wonders for his arms.

“But I’m not in long sleeves, dumbass,” Bakugou continued. “I’m not dealing with your ass if you pass out on us.”

“It’s a good thing that I have Kirishima then,” Hera defended uncaringly as she waved him off. “I’m also pretty anemic, so it’s not like I overheat easily anyway. Plus we can always duck into a shop or something if I need to cool off.”

“Yeah bro, lay off,” Kirishima defended, matching his stride with Hera while Bakugou hung back a few paces. “Let her wear what she wants.”

“Fuck if I care, but don’t come crying to me if you get too hot,” Bakugou bitched.

“I can always buy a cheap outfit and change,” Hera shrugged, finding it difficult to keep pace with Kirishima, whose stride was a bit longer than her own, and she found she had to half jog to keep up with him. Noticing this, Bakugou took it upon himself to speak up.

“Oi, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou started. “Slow the Hell down. Midget can’t keep up with you.”

“Oh jeez, sorry about that!” Kirishima fumbled, apologizing to Hera and correcting his pace. “I guess I got a little excited, that’s all. I haven’t really been out much either.” Hera grinned smugly back at Bakugou, saying nothing, but feeling elated that he actually went out of his way to look out for her. They walked over to a bus stop and took it into downtown, their first stop showing Hera where to buy a train pass.

Hera tried and failed to hide her excitement when she got on the train, admitting that she had never boarded one before. The trio hung around the train station, stopping by a thrift store for something to do, before hitting up an arcade just up the street. Bakugou had been super competitive, no surprise there, but Hera and Kirishima easily matched his energy with their own. They spent a good two hours there and then eventually decided to grab a bite to eat.

Hera had requested ramen at an actual ramen stand, and today officially marked one of the best days of her life. It was even better than her wildest dreams, and it was the first meal she had eaten with a friend outside of school. Before Hera’s famous first train on the way back to campus, the three of them stopped for some taiyaki, and Hera was quite certain that she saw God. Bakugou had tried to play the ‘I’m too masculine/angry to eat sweets’ bullshit, but Hera and Kirishima convinced him that only real men have the balls to eat sweet things, and eventually they won him over.

“Thanks guys,” Hera told them after they boarded the train back to campus. “I really needed this.”

“Hey, anytime!” Kirishima welcomed. When the train started to sway, Hera tried to reach for the handles overhead, glaring up at the offenders once she realized that she couldn’t reach them. Bakugou had laughed at her predicament, caging her from behind to prevent her from swaying into the people next to them, while Kirishima offered Hera his arm to keep her steady.

“I haven’t left campus once since the semester started,” Hera continued, trying like hell not to blush while she was being sandwiched between the two of them. Hera groaned, “And my training schedule this upcoming week is gonna be a total bitch.”

“Were you able to reserve any time in the facilities?” Kirishima asked while Bakugou glared at some guy who got too close to Hera, instinctively coming closer to them both. “I thought the only slots left were…?” Kirishima trailed off while Hera met his eyes knowingly. Bakugou made a sound that was something in between a scoff and a laugh, but Hera knew that whatever it was had been at her own expense.

“You poor bitch,” he sighed with a tone of voice that actually registered some pity.

“How many days were you able to sign up for?” Kirishima began, trying to think of anything other than the feel of Hera’s hands on his arms.

“All four days, Monday through Thursday from four am to six,” Hera complained. “They were the only reservations left in Gym Gamma. I need to be inside a building, or everyone on campus will know what I’m working on. My Quirk isn’t exactly subtle. There is one catch though,” she sighed in annoyance.

“Catch?” Bakugou asked from behind her, though Hera couldn’t see how his brows pulled together in concern.

“Aizawa basically told me that he doesn’t trust me to train on my own without pushing myself too hard. He said I could have the four am slots if I can get someone to babysit me while I’m training. Who the shit is gonna wanna sacrifice their own sleep to sit in the corner for two hours with a blindfold on?”

“Wait why a blindfold?” Kirishima blushed, all sorts of racey thoughts running through his mind.

“Well I don’t want them to see what it is I’m working on,” Hera explained as if this should be common sense. “Are you guys free at least one of those mornings?” Hera begged, clapping her hands together as if in prayer. “I’d so owe you! But if you guys are busy at all or don’t want to get up then I completely-”

“Oi, shut the fuck up already,” Bakugou complained, silencing Hera by putting his hand over her mouth. “We never said we couldn't do it. But you better produce some good results or else I’m not wasting my time.”

“Yeah, that’s what friends are for,” Kirishima answered easily, ignoring Bakugou entirely. “We can at least spare one day between the two of us.” Hera’s face lit up in gratitude as she managed to pull Bakugou’s hand away from her face, though it took both of her arms to do so.

“You know,” Hera turned to smirk dangerously at Bakugou over her shoulder, before latching back onto Kirishima for balance as the train arrived at their stop, “if you didn’t just offer me your help, I would have bitten you for that.”

“I’d love to see you try, Short Stack,” Bakugou grinned widely back in response, jumping at her challenge like it was what gave him purpose.

Hera shrugged nonchalantly in response, “I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing.” Bakugou glared at her while Kirishima took in their banter with a blush tickling his ears, hoping the blond would drop the matter without making a scene on the train as the doors began to open. Bakugou only leaned down to Hera’s level, rolling his eyes and growling a half threat into her ear only she could hear over the noise of the crowd, one that made her heart skip a beat.

“You wish, Midget.”

Hera looked dumbfoundedly up at him in response, scrunching up her nose in disgust. "Ew," was all she needed to say to make Bakugou turn as red as a damn strawberry.

Kirishima laughed so hard he cried.


	16. Insecurities

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Sixteen

Bakugou had Hera up Monday morning at three am sharp, blowing up her phone with texts demanding to know why she wasn’t already up. Dragging herself out of bed, Hera trudged downstairs in her pajamas, with absolutely no fucks given. She counted three impatient knocks on the front doors, their ungodly booms rivaling her own thunder in volume. Hera greeted Bakugou at the front door as if he hadn’t just been attempting to raise the dead with the noise, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and ushering him inside. 

“I was planning on getting in another half hour you psycho,” Hera yawned while she flicked on the lights in the common room, gesturing to the couches for him to wait for her there. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be right back down.”

But being Bakugou, he didn’t just do as he was told, no matter the hour. Instead he chose to wander into the kitchen and take stock of what was in the fridge - or more like what wasn’t. “The cafeteria doesn’t open for breakfast until seven,” He glared at Hera from where she stood across the living room.“Were you not planning on eating anything beforehand?”

“I don’t usually have an appetite right when I wake up,” Hera slurred through her fatigue, still quite not awake. She gestured to the tall closet by the fridge. “There’s some granola bars in the pantry. I was just gonna grab one or two of them.” 

Bakugou half slammed the door to the fridge and strode over to analyze the sole box in the entire pantry, glaring down at it.

“These are shit,” he dismissed, tossing them angrily back into the pantry. “And if you wake your lazy ass up earlier then you can make yourself something decent to eat, dibshit.” 

“Leave my ass out of this,” Hera warned non committedly, earning her a hard flick to the forehead. Bakugou returned to the fridge and pulled out a small carton of eggs. “Go get ready. Fucking food should be finished by the time you are.”

Surprising them both, Hera came up behind Bakugou and dared to get all up in his personal space, leaning her forehead on his shoulder, attempting to doze off a bit even as she stood. 

“Thank you, Kaachan,” was all she said as Bakugou’s body stiffened up reflexively against her touch, having not expected the contact. 

“Wh-WHO THE FUCK SAID YOU COULD CALL ME THAT?!” he yelled, the croaking of his voice still a little hoarse from sleep as well. A tad annoyed at his outburst but unthreatened, Hera shrugged and headed for the stairs. 

“It’s not like I used your actual first name,” Hera’s voice grew distant as she retreated to her room, but Bakugou could still make out her faint, “If Midoriya of all people can call you that then I can too, bitch.”

“I’M GONNA BURN YOUR EGGS YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Bakugou threatened, and Hera thanked God there was no one else living there to be woken up. 

In the end though, Bakugou hadn’t actually burned her breakfast.

* * *

Once they arrived in the towering concrete gym of Ground Gamma, Hera threw her sports bag against the wall, unzipping it to reveal a mess of fresh clothes and a bottle of water. She produced a black bandana, folding it into one long strip of cloth before handing it to Bakugou to use as a makeshift blindfold. 

Receiving Hera’s wordless request loud and clear, Bakugou snatched the blindfold from her hands and tied it over his eyes, though he thankfully kept his grumbling to a minimum. He made his way over to where Hera had thrown her bag, slumping into a sitting position and onto the floor, his arms crossed as if in perpetual annoyance. 

“I know I’ll need a break at some point so I don’t pass out,” Hera called over to Bakugou as she took her place in the center of the gym, readying her stance. “I’ll let you know so you can take a break from the blindfold for a few.”

“Hurry up and start already,” Bakugou snapped at her, masking his curiosity with impatience. “Shit this is gonna be boring as fuck.”

Raising an eyebrow, Hera summoned a small bolt of lightning from the six story ceiling, crashing it on the other side of the gym to avoid electrocuting them both. The sound had deafened them both for a few seconds, Hera’s ears thankfully starting to ring again just when she thought she had overdone it.

“So sorry,” Hera’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Do try to stay awake for me, and I’ll do my best to keep you entertained.~” 

Predictably, Bakugou had gone off on her, but he had managed to keep the blindfold on. The aftershock of the lightning bolt had sent both of them to the floor, knocking Bakugou onto his side and Hera down to her knees, but she had successfully made her point. She got started only after Bakugou had righted himself, and Hera went to work focusing on her breathing. 

Hera conjured up some fog so that she could better view her otherwise invisible currents of wind, as she began to churn and manipulate the air around them. Deciding to save the vortices for last, Hera willed the mist to move to and fro, pushing and pulling the clouds in and out like the tide. She did this for a few minutes until it was like second nature, before turning her focus onto creating different types of cloud cover. 

Although Bakugou couldn't see what Hera was working on, he could feel the energy in the air around them. The changes in moisture and temperature, and all of the instability. The atmosphere almost felt...charged. Not necessarily electrical, like when Hera had used her lightning, but full of an aura he couldn’t quite place. The air around him just felt like...Hera. 

Even from where he sat across the gym, he could hear her breathing pick up or calm down along with the intensity of the winds around them, the gale force winds gusting and then surging off in another direction as Hera willed the currents to change. The winds would lull for a time and die down, before eventually picking up again, sometimes stronger than before as she continued her drills. 

Around an hour later Hera fell to her hands and knees, gasping for air and announcing through choked breaths that she was taking a break. Bakugou had all but ripped off his blindfold, sprinting over to Hera when he saw her doubled over on the concrete, sweat pouring down her neck and face.

“Oi!” Bakugou exclaimed in alarm as he bent down to her level, but Hera waved him off with a trembling arm. 

“...I’m good,” she tried to assure him, but Bakugou remained unconvinced. 

“Bullshit,” Bakugou dismissed, hooking Hera’s arm around his shoulders and helping her to stand, before half dragging her over to her bag and roughly depositing her onto it. Luckily Hera didn’t have anything breakable in there, and she didn’t protest despite him half throwing her. Her bag was definitely softer than concrete. 

Bakugou retrieved Hera’s towel and chucked it at her face, plopping her water bottle into her lap in the same movement. Hera breathed out a weak word of thanks, gulping down her water so quickly Bakugou had told her to, ‘drink fucking slower.’ Neither of them spoke until Hera started to catch her breath, which took a good ten minutes.

“...What’s it feel like?” Bakugou asked her out of the blue, sitting down beside Hera only once he was confident she wasn’t going to pass out. 

“When I use my Quirk?” Hera surmised immediately, not needing to guess. Bakugou nodded curtly, looking down at her for once with more intrigue than annoyance. He rested his cheek in his hand which was propped up on his knee, signaling to Hera that she had his undivided attention, even though he failed to mask it with boredom. 

“It all depends on what I’m trying to do. Making a few gusts of wind doesn’t usually knock me out, and on a small scale I can incorporate it well enough into close range combat. Creating any type of cloud cover makes me dizzy or gives me a migraine. But tornadoes…if I make them too big or too strong, then I’ll lose control. My only warning before it happens is feeling like I’m underwater? Like there’s this pressure around me and it’s like...I’m being crushed or something.”

“...What about when you use your lightning?” Bakugou continued, behaving himself more than Hera thought he was capable of.

“...My father could manipulate the electrical currents within buildings and electronic devices. He used to get drunk and taze me for kicks,” Hera laughed nervously, running a hand through her sweaty hair. “I guess that’s why I’m not a fan of my lightning, especially because mine is stronger than his.”

Bakugou eyed the blue scars on her neck, clenching his fists in anger. “Did that fuck do that shit to you?” he jabbed a finger lightly against Hera’s throat, his own closing up in adrenaline, his body instinctively gearing up for a fight that would never happen. Hera shook her head no.

“These were my fault,” was all Hera gave him, refusing to elaborate any further. “It’s whatever. Guess I’ll never look good in a bikini,” she shrugged, even though the notion clearly bothered her. “But being a Hero isn’t about where you came from. It’s about what you do from there to help other people.”

Bakugou watched as Hera tossed her towel and water bottle off to the side, standing up as if her body were made of lead. Hera forced herself back into the center of the gym like she was entering an Arena, legs shaking and buckling beneath her. This time, it was a lot more difficult for Bakugou to put on the blindfold. It was like it was getting harder and harder to take his eyes off of her.

The second half of Hera’s training session had been far louder, and Bakugou desperately wished that he could see what the hell she was working on. He could hear the howl of the wind as it screamed across the gym with deafening volume. The crumbling of concrete as it cracked open, the high pitched sing of metal as it bent and snapped. Some of the chunks that hit the ground farther away from him sounded like the size of cars. The sting of cold rain as it occasionally pelted against his face and arms, carried over to him by random gusts of wind. 

A single crack of thunder, and then nothing.

Bakugou counted to thirty in his head, at first wondering if Hera was just switching gears to try something else. When the silence continued for a full moment, Bakugou ripped off the blindfold, eyes widening when he discovered Hera lying on her side in the bullseye of a scorch mark. 

Bakugou bolted to Hera’s side in half a second, propelling himself over to her with a single blast from his palms. He pulled Hera into his arms and worriedly checked her vitals. 

“Hey! Short Stack!” Bakugou called out to Hera as he shook her shoulders, probably more roughly than he needed to. After earning no response, Bakugou slapped Hera in the face; nothing that would leave a mark. It worked. 

Hera blinked up at him like she was having difficulty getting her eyes to focus, the world tilting around her uncontrollably. 

“Oi! Did you just fucking- Strike yourself with your own lightning?!” 

“Mmm...no, I think it missed me,” Hera mumbled, still not entirely conscious. “...but the current traveled through the ground and hit me. Wasn’t even tryin’ to do lightning,” she slurred, her head falling against Bakugou in defeat as she fought to remember what breathing was. 

Hera listened to the steady thrum of his strong heartbeat while he held her, Bakugou listening to her own as he mentally catalogued the rhythm of the pulse in her wrist. He gave Hera a solid five minutes to get her bearings before allowing her to sit up, but with his help. Hera wasn’t upright for long.

“Fucking chill!” Bakugou had commanded, his eyes failing to mask his desperation, looking her over with concern. Hera buried her face in his shirt, mumbling against his chest as she choked back tears. 

“...can you bring me to the showers?” Hera pleaded timidly, doubting that she could walk after the second worst tazing of her life, choking back tears. “Hot water helps...with the muscle pain…”

Not needing to be told twice, Bakugou slipped an arm under Hera’s knees, his other supporting her back as he effortlessly rose to his feet. Venturing into the guy’s locker room, Bakugou carried Hera over to the showers. Carefully, he set Hera on her feet, hooking an arm around her waist to keep her upright, letting her lean against him as he got the shower stream to the right temperature. 

“I’ll be right outside the locker room,” Bakugou announced only once he was certain Hera wouldn’t faint again.

“Yeah, thanks,” Hera sighed as she stepped into the not quite scalding water. “Can you bring me my bag first? Might as well take an actual shower while I’m at it.”

“What am I a fucking pack mule?” Bakugou complained half heartedly, still uneasy about the idea of leaving Hera alone. He looked anywhere but at her, as Hera’s now soaked clothes clung to her body immodestly, a deep blush blossoming across Bakugou’s face like flowers in spring. 

When he returned to the locker room, Hera had kicked off her shoes and peeled away her socks, chucking her shirt aside and leaving her in only a sports bra and sweatpants. Bakugou’s initial instinct was to warn Hera about stripping down in front of some random guy, but the sight of the darkened scars inking in violet bolts about her skin stalled the words in his throat immediately. 

They were much darker than Bakugou remembered, almost black, and he vaguely remembered Hera mentioning that they do so when she overuses her Quirk. Without realizing what he was doing, Bakugou reached out to touch them, tracing the raised scars down her shoulder like a game of ladder, or the roots of a tree. Astounding them both, Hera let him. 

“Gross aren’t they?” Hera smiled sadly, but she didn’t bother to try and cover herself. After all, he’d already seen them. Touched them. 

Splaying out one of his hands in the center of Hera’s shoulder blades, all Bakugou sounded was amazed, if not a little bashful. “They’re like the calluses on my hands,” Bakugou spoke at last, offering Hera one of his own hands to view, his melted skin very closely resembling the mars on her back. “But yours look way fucking cooler.”

“Wait, what do your hands look like?” Hera wondered aloud, and Bakugou actually offered one up for her to feel up as well. It was only fair. After a good thirty seconds scrutinizing his hands, Hera came dubbed them as, “Melted skinnnn! It’s like the back of my neck.” When the water started to run a little cooler, Hera announced that she should finish up. “Meet you out there?”

Bakugou regarded her for a tense few seconds. “Five minutes or I’m coming back in to get you,” he warned, his gaze entranced by her own. . 

In response, Hera only winked at him, looking up at Bakugou through impossibly thick lashes. “Damn bro, showering with the girl on the first date? Coming on a tad strong aren’t you?”

Flushing red in both his furry and in embarrassment, Bakugou grabbed Hera by the strap of her sports bra, pushing her up against the wall and hovering over her threateningly. He barked out something violent, one of his palms sparking menacingly as Bakugou hovered it near Hera’s face. 

All one of them had to do was lean in.

Unfortunately, Bakugou’s actions had come off a bit too realistically, and extreme even for him. Hera’s face had paled in her panic, fear flashing in her eyes as her body flinched away from him, tensing up as if to receive a blow Bakugou had never intended to deliver.

“...I didn’t mean to offend you that much,” Hera fumbled, her voice smaller than Bakugou had ever heard it. It didn’t suit her at all, and his stomach clenched in immediate regret. He had really scared her. Slowly, he released his hold on her, but when Hera failed to cringe away from him, he didn’t back away from her.

In the end, it was Bakugou that had moved first, closing the shallow distance between his lips and Hera’s. His mind was racing to the moon and back at light speed, while Hera’s had shut down entirely. Why had his first instinct to comfort Hera been to kiss her?! There was no way that she wanted this, wanted him, and now all Bakugou could think about was if he wanted her.

Hera’s lips had felt so soft against his, and just as uncertain. Whatever it was she was thinking about, Bakugou wanted it to stop. He wanted to be the only thing on her mind, instead of the insecurities and bullshit likely plaguing Hera’s mind right now, even in the heat of this odd moment they had unexpectedly found themselves in. Bakugou kissed Hera a little more forcefully, to let her know that he was there, and so that she could feel safe in her own skin. Her timid brushes of lips became more confident, more sure, even though they quivered against his own in terror. Or maybe it was anxiety. 

They pulled away at the same time, Bakugou cutting off the water as it ran down their bodies like ice. He didn’t dare look any lower than Hera’s face, afraid of the buds he might see poking through her bra when he noticed her shiver from the water. Bakugou took a breath and broke the silence before he lost his nerve and said nothing.

“...I didn’t come to UA for any distractions,” he ground out, fighting to keep the growl from his voice. 

“...Honestly, neither did I,” Hera sighed defeatedly, any hope Bakugou swore he had seen fading from her eyes like light after sunset. “I came to Japan for more of a self imposed life sentence anyway. For a fresh start. That didn't include derailing my friend’s Hero career before our first Sports Festival,” Hera laughed nervously, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “We’re still friends, right?”

Something about Hera made Bakugou a little weaker, and before he knew it, he was pulling her into a one armed hug.

“Yeah, now stop friggn’ crying already!” he yelled, her tears giving him the urge to break something. And just what the hell did she mean by ‘self-imposed life sentence?’

“I’m not asking you for a relationship. Neither of us have the time for one, and I don’t wanna fuck up this odd rivalry-frenemy thing we had going on here,” Hera continued, before pleading “Okay, can we be done now? I’m not good at dealing with feelings.”

“Fucking same,” Bakugou grumbled uncomfortably, commanding Hera to hurry up and change one final time before leaving her alone with her thoughts. 

He hadn’t said anything else, he’d just walked out on her, and Hera’s stomach had dropped. Bakugou had been one of the first friends she’d made at UA, and Hera had quite possibly fucked everything up. Maybe it was because she overused her Quirk, or perhaps what happened next was just a severe panic attack triggered by her own abandonment issues, but soon Hera found herself vomiting.

* * *

Hera eventually emerged from the locker room around twenty minutes later, and looking several shades paler than when Bakugou had peeled her off of the concrete just forty minutes earlier. 

“What the hell took so long?” Bakugou had ground out. The annoyance in his tone was difficult for Hera to discern as melodramatic or genuine fury. Her throat still burned from the bile, and began to close up in her panic as Hera fought to come up with an answer that would calm him. Noticing her distress, Bakugou added, “Hey, you good?” and this time, it didn’t sound as snappy.

Hera plastered a weak smile onto her face, one as frail as her current emotional state. “I threw up a little bit,” Hera admitted, giving him the short version. “Took me a while to stop and clean up. Sorry for taking forever, and thank you for babysitting me this morning. I’m sorry if I made things...awkward. I promise I won’t bring it up agai-”

“Oi,” Bakugou warned her, cutting Hera off. “...I meant it when I said that we’re good. I’m not good at this comforting shit, but just trust in me, alright Midget?”

Hera gave a small nod in reply, but trusting other people was something she was confident she could never do again. Bakugou walked Hera back to the dorms when he thought she still looked unsteady on her feet, oblivious to her own mental torments while he was busy dealing with his own. 

Once they arrived in her building, Hera trudged up the stairs with quivering limbs, hearing Bakugou shut the door behind them. However, Hera hadn’t heard him wandering into the living room. She deposited her bag on the floor in her bedroom, grabbing a blanket and stumbling back down the stairs like a zombie. 

Hera looked brokenly at the door, tears welling up in her eyes. It was over, things were gonna be weird at lunch, and soon Bakugou would drift away and ghost her. Making herself comfortable, Hera half collapsed onto the stairs, curling in on herself for comfort. She drifted off to sleep in moments that had felt like an eternity.

* * *

Rather than leaving campus and going all the way back home, Bakugou had decided to doze off on one of the couches in the common area. He set an alarm on his phone while he heard Hera fumbling around upstairs, knowing that he might have to be her alarm clock as well. No way she was gonna just wake up right away after all of that training, and after well...everything else.

Bakugou had been awake enough when he had heard Hera stumble down the stairs, but when she hadn’t come into the kitchen or the living room, he wondered if she passed out standing up somewhere. Cursing not so under his breath, Bakugou ventured into the kitchen, finding nothing. He wandered over to the front door, his heart skipping a beat when he found Hera on the stairs. The sight of Hera there, looking like a lost puppy and curled in on herself like a lost puppy choked him with guilt. Even in the dim hallway light, Bakugou could make out the tears streaming down her face, and the puffiness around Hera’s eyes.

He’d fucked up big time.

* * *

Hera hadn’t woken to the obnoxious blaring of a phone’s wake up alarm, which was currently doing just that, but instead to Bakugou lightly shaking her awake. 

Her head was in his lap.

She looked around her, flinching at the unexpected sight of him as Hera woke up to different surroundings then she had fallen asleep to. His legs were certainly more comfortable than the stairs, loathe as Hera was to admit it out loud. She looked up at him timidly, to make sure that she wasn’t in fact hallucinating. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes when Bakugou glared down at her, slightly irked that Hera wasn’t moving as fast as he’d like, but giving her some time to process things anyway. 

“Didn’t think you’d wake up on time,” Bakugou mumbled, his own voice still hoarse from sleep. “Hurry up and get ready. Breakfast is starting soon, and I’m not cooking for you a second time.” He regarded her for a few seconds. “Quit it with the tears already!”

He hadn’t left her, at least not yet. Friend or boyfriend or frenemy, Hera would take what she could get.

Bakugou had tagged along with Hera to grab their second breakfast in the school’s cafeteria. Hera hadn’t eaten much, announcing finally that she didn’t have much of an appetite when he had pestered her. Bakugou walked her to class, keeping her behind him so she didn’t accidentally bump into anyone in her exhausted state. They split off to their respective seats with only a shared, knowing glance. Todoroki had seen the two arrive together and witnessed their exchange, thinking the entire interaction a bit odd, even for them. 

“Are you alright?” Todoroki had asked Hera as they took their seats. He had sat at his own as gracefully as a cat perching on a ledge, while Hera had all but collapsed into her own seat. She gave him a hand gesture that told him that she was so-so at best, her face pulling into a slight grimace at the effort, but Hera hadn’t expanded upon it any further. 

Yaoyorozu eventually arrived with the rest of their classmates, her pale skin glowing like some sort of a goddess. The class rep took one look at Hera’s sickly complexion and the deep purple bags blooming beneath her listless eyes. 

“Good morning,” Yaoyorozu offered politely in greeting, her words revealing her concern. She boldly leaned into Hera’s personal space, examining her friend closely. “Oh Hera-chan, you look so unwell! Did you not sleep well?”

Recovering quickly from her initial shock at their sudden proximity, Hera chucked defeatedly, head falling into her folded arms upon the desk. “Not really, no. I had to wake up at three am to eat something before training in Gym Gamma from four to six. I am deadddd. Mornings even without training can really mess me up sometimes.” 

“Were there no other time slots open in any of the other training facilities?” Todoroki asked worriedly.

Hera shook her head. “There were a few spots open in other areas, but I needed to be inside a building. I don’t want the entire school knowing what I’m working on. My Quirk doesn’t exactly scream stealth.”

“Were you able to reserve any other days?” Yaoyorozu inquired, thinking that Hera could fall asleep at any moment, slumping onto her desk like she was half dead already. 

This time, Hera’s laugh sounded like an agonized cry. “I reserved the next three days in a row at the same grand old time: four am to six, ass crack of dawn,” she sighed stressfully. “But I might not even get to.”

“What do you mean?” Todoroki asked, confused. “You reserved those times, they should be indisputably yours.” 

“Not according to Aizawa-sensei,” Hera explained, still feeling awkward when it came to using honorifics. “He and I both know that my Quirk can be too much for my body to handle. In exchange for the only time slots available in the privacy of a gym, he gave me an ultimatum: that I need to find someone to chaperone me during my training sessions in case I overdo it. Every one of my peers are training just as hard as I am, if not harder. How can I ask anyone to sacrifice what little sleep they’re getting when I’m their competition?”

“I suppose that’s a reasonable request on Aizawa-sensei’s part,” Youyorozu defended their teacher knowingly. “He was merely putting your safety above all else.”

“And we’re your friends,” Todoroki reminded Hera. “Rivals for the Sports Festival aside, what kind of friends would we be not to help you the one time you ask us for anything?”

“Were you able to find someone to chaperone you this morning?” Yaoyorozu asked, before offering, “I can help you on Wednesday morning if you’ll have me.”

“Yeah, Bakugou was there with me this morning- and oh my god yes?” Hera raised her head, jumping at the prospect of destroying her body even more.

‘ _ Ah, so that’s why they came in together this morning _ ,’ Todoroki surmised to himself. “Do you need someone for tomorrow?” Todoroki chimed in. 

Hera thought she could kiss him. ‘ _ Heh, better not risk another friendship to her own hormonal/mental issues twice in one day _ ,’ Hera internally kicked herself. “Kirishima is actually helping me out tomorrow,” Hera informed them matter of factly. “I just need someone for Thursday.”

“I can do Thursday morning,” Todoroki agreed easily, a weak smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he saw how elated Hera was to have been freed of such a burden.

“Thank you both so much,” Hera expressed her gratitude, reaching up to wipe the fresh tears from her still puffy eyes. “I owe you both so much. Man I didn't think I was gonna find anybody. Or like find the courage to ask someone for help.”

Todoroki was quiet for a moment, before he eventually gave into his curiosity and changed the subject. “Did something happen between you and Bakugou?” Todoroki asked at last. 

Hera hesitated, biting her lip as she debated what she should and shouldn’t say. “I fainted towards the end of my second hour of training this morning,” she finally told them both. “My body was in so much pain, so I asked him to drag me over to the showers in the locker rooms and put me under some hot water. It helps a lot with the muscle spasms. Bakugou held me up until I was able to stand up on my own. Guess I was lucky he was there after all.”

Yaoyorozu and Todoroki gaped at her.

“What?” Hera asked dumbly, realization soon hitting her like the truck of puberty. “Oh, I guess it sounds bad when I don’t elaborate about the showers. I was fully clothed,” Hera assured them. ‘ _ Well, mostly _ .’ 

“I am glad that you are alright,” Yaoyorozu sighed gratefully, as if Hera was her very own problem child, and one that brought her mother a great deal of stress. 

Hera nodded numbly as Todoroki hummed in agreement with Yaoyorozu, blinking wearily. “I really hope that I don’t pass out during class. It’s taking everything in me right now not to.”

“I can take extra detailed notes for you today,” Yaoyorozu offered sweetly. “I can also do so the rest of the week if you would like until you finish your mornings training.”

Overcome with the sudden urge to express her gratitude, Hera leaned forward without thinking and hugged them both, slipping an arm around each of their shoulders. She flinched back after a second as if someone had slapped her.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you guys, I swear! I was just super happy to have friends like you guys and it was only meant as a ‘thank you’ hug!” Hera threw both of her hands off of them and up in the air to emphasize her sincerity. “I keep forgetting that I’m not in America!” 

“Aw that’s so sweet of you,” Yaoyorozu gushed, hands falling over her heart in earnest. “I am not offended in the least!”

“Likewise,” Todoroki added simply, a small smile still playing at his lips in his compounding amusement. His soft expression caught Hera off guard, and something about his openness suddenly made her feel a little guilty when Hera noticed Yaoyorozu blushing at their interaction. 

Hera’s mind drifted into the realm of unrest as Aizawa commenced their homeroom, sleeping bag and all of its glory. She felt an uncomfortable tightness in her chest. Just where had all of these unnecessary feelings come from? The school semester had only just begun, and here Hera was catching feelings for her classmates. She needed to stop this behavior, and all of these feelings of hers immediately. It was probably just hormones, nothing real. 

Love was only a distraction anyway, and a burden Hera would never willingly place upon someone else if she could prevent it. She was just a touched starved child seeking out the platonic cuddles she had been denied of for years. Getting a little from a friend didn’t mean it was love. 

* * *

It wasn’t unusual for Hera to float from table to table at lunch during the week. Unlike most of her peers, Hera couldn’t just pick a table and park it indefinitely. She had so many different sides to her, and Hera was the type to give all of her friends an equal amount of attention, even if they didn’t all sit together. Sometimes she chose to bro it out with the Bakusquad, sometimes with the other girls, and occasionally even with Deku’s friends as well. 

What Hera hadn’t been counting on was Kirishima’s sixth sense when it came to people’s emotions. He could sense Hera’s tension spike up around Bakugou as they interacted throughout the day, their angry blond friend uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Did something happen between you and Hera?” Kirishima had asked Bakugou at their lockers after the final bell. “She’s been low key avoiding you all day, bro.”

“And why the hell is that my fault?!” Bakugou had snapped back in response, telling Kirishima nothing but that his friend had been just as tense about the issue as Hera must have been. 

“Chill out man, I was just asking,” Kirishima had brushed him off, hands raised in peace. “I’m not accusing you of anything, but you’ve been seething all day and it worried me, okay?”

Bakugou looked away from Kirishima like he wanted to snap something back, but either couldn’t find the words or the will to do so. He looked up at Kirishima for a few seconds and shared as pleading of a look as Bakugou could manage, before he looked away once again. 

“Did you, you know, make a move on her?”Kirishima added playfully when he thought he saw a blush tainting Bakugou’s cheeks.

“Fucking-NO!” Bakugou answered just a little too quickly.

“Ah, so I was right,” Kirishima slung an arm over his grumpy friend easily, almost as if his contact was welcome. “Well if I don’t get anything out of you today, then I can always ask Hera about it when I see her tomorrow morning.~” Kirishima winked suggestively in a way that made Bakugou want to vomit.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” Bakugou glared at him, ceasing his march off campus at once to square up with Kirishima, who reflexively hardened his skin in an act of self preservation. But Kirishima didn’t yield.

* * *

“So I’ve been kind of wondering,” Kirishima projected, yelling over the booms of thunder to where he thought Hera was located across the gym, unable to because of the blindfold.

“What is it?” Hera called back to him, her voice closer than Kirishima had expected. A lull in the gusts of gale and winds and a brief pause in the lightning, but Hera wasn’t quite taking a break.

“Did something happen between you and Bakugou?” Kirishima asked bluntly, and it was as if he was channeling Tsu herself. The winds and rain died down all at once, showing Kirishima that he had caught Hera off guard. 

“Yeah actually,” Hera confided through ragged breathing, praying that he wouldn’t pester her with all the details, ones she was still trying like hell to simultaneously relive and forget with every waking thought. Namely the kiss she had shared with Bakugou. “Were we that obvious?” 

“Kind of,” Kirishima smirked, and although her back was turned to him, Hera felt like he was shrugging. But his worry was still palpable. “It was pretty awkward today at lunch.”

“Sorry about that,” Hera apologized vaguely. “We just had a little miscommunication, that’s all. It’ll blow over eventually and Bakugou will go right back to screaming at everyone that questions him,” Hera laughed nervously, trying to find some comfort in the comedy of the image, but Kirishima just thought she sounded really sad.

Kirishima could read between the lines. “So you’re currently not over it?”

Hera couldn’t bring herself to speak up right away. Until finally, “I think there’s something wrong with me, Kiri.”

At the sound of her shaking voice, Kirishima asked, “Can I take off the blindfold?”

“...Not yet,” Hera sniffled through her tears. He changed tactics. 

“Then can you come here?” Kirishima ventured. When all he received in response was Hera’s panicked hiccups, he stood up slowly and attempted to make his way over to her, keeping the blindfold tied in place over his eyes. He sensed her presence soon enough once Hera came to stand before him, just out of arm's reach, as if she was afraid to come any closer to him. 

Taking a chance, Kirishima slowly raised his arms and held them out to her, and it took Hera a few seconds too long to realize that he was offering her a hug. Sensing her hesitation, he eventually closed the distance himself. Kirishima wound his arms around Hera’s waist and gently tugged her into him, and she found herself slipping her arms around his neck to hold him closer. She didn’t sob loudly or bawl, but the feeling of Hera’s body shaking in anguish against him only made Kirishima hold her tighter. He didn’t ask her any questions...he was just there, and right now it turned out to be exactly what Hera needed. 

“Please don’t judge me when I say it,” Hera pleaded, drinking in his warmth and his masculine scent of pine that engulfed her like a blanket of security, thinking that his gesture was somehow meant to encourage her to give him an answer. It wasn’t.

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” Kirishima assured Hera candidly. “Not unless you want to.”

She took a deep breath and clung onto him even tighter, as if she feared her next statement might make Kirishima push her away. “I was sparring too hard and I blacked out for a second. When I came to, I told Bakugou to take me to the showers and help me get under the hot water - with my clothes on - and we talked about some shit and the next thing I knew we were...he was kissing me.”

“Wait he what?!” Kirishima exclaimed in disbelief, his body jolting in surprise, but he hadn’t let go of Hera. After he inadvertently scared Hera at the unexpected movement, Kirishima held still in an effort to swallow his own shock, and to avoid surprising her again. 

“We um, we talked it over and decided that I wasn’t actually into him, but probably just the idea of being physically close to someone,” Hera explained sadly.

Kirishima threw his head back in frustration. “That idiot! What if you really do like him but you just didn’t know until then?”

“That’s the thing,” Hera continued, still hanging onto Kiri for dear life, but at least her shaking had stopped. “I thought I was attracted to Todoroki at first...and uh…” her voice shrunk, “...to you, too.”

Kirishima tensed up against her, cheeks burning with a blush Hera thankfully couldn’t see while he held her, and Hera swore his heart began to pound even harder at the confession. Hera’s voice cracked in her distress, a stream of fresh tears pouring down her face, trickling onto Kirishima’s shirt like soft rain. The mist that had been swirling around above them had begun to swirl and churn, and soon it began to drizzle as Hera was overcome with grief and sorrow.

“Does this make me some sort of a whore? To be so attracted to all of you?”

Keeping his hold on Hera with one arm around her waist, Kirishima ripped off his blindfold with his other, gently cupping Hera’s face in his free hand and guiding her gaze up to his own. Although she still felt defeated, Hera complied easily, resting her cheek lightly against his hand in a way that gave Kirishima the resolution to die happy right then and there. 

“Don’t you ever say that about yourself again” Kirishima commanded quietly, thumbing away Hera’s fresh tears. 

“What am I then?! A pro hero in training controlled only by her hormones and emotional instability?!” Hera wheezed desperately, coughing when she forgot to breathe amidst her outburst. Her throat locked up painfully in a way that it did when she panicked, and Hera was most definitely panicking now. “I won’t take Todoroki away from Yaoyorozu! Have you seen the way she looks at him? And Bakugou turned me down, it sucks but I’ll get over it! I’d only be a distraction to him and-”

“Oi! Take it easy! Breathe!” Kirishima coached as Hera doubled over, her panic attack overwhelming her senses as she hyperventilated, forcing Kirishima to support her body to keep her upright. When her eyes started to cloud over, Kirishima feared that Hera might actually pass out on him. Holding Hera at arms length, he began to soothingly massage her neck and shoulders. This seemed to work, the distraction enough to allow Hera to steal a few good breaths, but they were still too shallow to fully put his mind at ease. 

“See? You got this,” Kirishima encouraged. “Now match your breathing with mine,” he offered, inhaling deeply and holding it for a few seconds, before slowly letting it out and repeating the motion. He didn’t speak again until Hera was able to consistently do this on her own, without his help. He guided her back over to her bag by the wall, retrieving her water bottle and silently ushering for her to take a few sips. 

“...That happens sometimes,” Hera broke the silence when she felt like Kirishima deserved an answer. She continued to lean up against him, soaking in the contact while he was still offering it. “Thanks for helping me through it.”

“...Does that sort of thing...happen to you often?” Kirishima chose his words carefully, not wanting to offend Hera by referring to her panic attack as a nervous breakdown or an episode. He continued to massage her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her as much as he could, surprised by how tense Hera’s neck was.

“...They started after my parents were killed in an accident when I was eleven, but these attacks...they happen more frequently when I’m stressed out,” Hera sighed as Kirishima worked out a few knots in her neck. “I’m not very good at opening up to others, so I always try to keep things short before I lose their attention or before I start to sound like I have too many problems.”

“I see,” Kirishima hummed thoughtfully, briefly asking for Hera’s permission to continue down to her lower back. “Well thanks for having the courage to open up to me. That was crazy brave of you.” 

“It really wasn’t, but I appreciate the encouragement,” Hera mumbled under her breath, only just loud enough for Kirishima to hear. 

They fell into a comfortable silence then as Kiri focused on his massage, but after a good five minutes Hera forced herself to call it, not wanting to waste anymore time training then she had already. Their peaceful silence continued until after Hera had departed the showers - this time using the girls locker rooms. Kirishima had walked Hera back to her dorm and they had both crashed on the couch for a two hour power nap, eventually rising to grab a bite in the cafeteria and then heading off to class. 

Hera had wanted so badly to cuddle up with Kirishima like she had with Bakugou, but she wouldn’t push her luck. After all, she had already received more physical contact in the last two mornings then she had in the last few years. Since when had she become so greedy?

Kirishima spoke up again as the first bell chimed, as they departed the cafeteria and made their way to their homeroom. “Are you planning on telling him?” he asked out of the blue. “Todoroki, I mean.”

“No,” Hera answered guiltily. “If a girl confessed that she had a thing for you but then kissed someone else, would you just forgive her? Even if she knew that she probably already liked you?”

“Well if I knew she was a good person and we weren’t officially dating yet, I’d definitely hear her out and at least give her a chance,” Kirishima answered, his eyes shining as he pointedly looked at Hera like  _ she _ was worth it.

“Just because I might have a crush on Todoroki doesn’t mean I like him as more than a friend. I’m not about to confess to him right after I kissed someone else. I don’t really know why I’m so attracted to you three but I think I just-”

Hera’s eyes widened in shock at her accidental admission, to her horror finding the same level of surprise in Kirishima’s expression. She had already admitted that she was attracted to him - as well as Bakugou and Todoroki - in Gym Gamma earlier that very morning, but something about the way Kirishima was reacting to Hera's words now was somehow different. Her legs broke into a jog and soon Hera found herself running away from him, too cowardly to address what had just happened, leaving Kirishima speechless and blushing in the hallway.


	17. Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Warning* Mentions of suicide. If such content makes you uncomfortable then please skip this chapter. All that happens is Hera overworks herself and after a panic attack in the infirmary in front of Aizawa and Recovery Girl she takes the first steps to get some much delayed mental help. A few funny character interactions and likely some spelling errors, I promise you guys you aren't missing a thing. But the Sports Festival chapters will be coming soon, and I can't wait to write the fight scenes!

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Seventeen 

Hera really wasn’t all that adept at dealing with anxiety, her lack of confidence rearing its ugly head typically when she least expects it to. From day to day Hera often felt like she was fighting a losing battle to something. Meeting the expectations of society as both a young woman and a pro hero in training, or failing to carry herself as someone others could rely upon. Every day her struggles were as different as they were the same, and today two things would cloud her focus. The first being her possible feelings for at present three boys in her class, and her accidental semi confessions to two of them. 

Wednesday’s training in Gym Gamma had been a losing battle since the moment Hera woke up to greet it, and simply remaining on her feet was proving to be more difficult than she would like to admit. However, after narrowly collapsing a piece of the ceiling the size of a car onto Yaoyorozu’s blindfolded head, Hera abruptly decided to call it a day after only an hour into her training. 

“MOMO!” Hera had screamed in horror, blasting the debris away with a gust of wind so powerful it nearly blew apart the rest of the roof. Her vision blurred and Hera must have blacked out for a moment because the next thing she knew she was being pulled into Yaoyorozu’s lap. Her classmate assured Hera that she was alright, but her words fell on deaf ears. 

“I am unharmed, truly-”

“I could have killed you!” Hera panicked, cutting Yaoyorozu off as her mind raced over all of the possible ‘what ifs?’ Taken aback by Hera’s sudden hysteria, Yaoyorozu gently cupped Hera’s chin atop her slender fingers, lifting Hera's gaze up to her own.

“I heard the debris falling,” Yaoyorozu began, looking stern. “I had faith that you would divert the concrete before it hit me. That’s why I didn’t move.”

Hera was furious, but no matter how much she struggled against her weight, she didn’t have the strength to sit up.

“The day I learned I could create lightning  _ I melted someone’s face off _ ! The next time I used my wind  _ I destroyed my entire house _ !” Hera screamed hoarsely in a final burst of energy, clinging onto Yaoyorozu to be sure that she was really there, safe and warm and alive. Unwanted flashbacks bubbled up to the surface of Hera’s mind like the bile building in her throat. “I didn’t use my Quirk for almost  _ three years _ after that! I am the absolute...last person you should…”

“-Hera-chan!  Hera-chan !”

Hera fought with everything she had not to pass out as she leaned limply against Yaoyorozu, choking out a weak, “Don’t tell Recovery Girl… I need that time slot tomorrow… Please.”

“You need a doctor!” Yaoyorozu corrected worriedly in protest, cautiously helping Hera to sit up while her friend barely managed to support her own weight. Hera was shaking, so the thought of losing control over her Quirk must have upset her more than Yaoyorozu had initially thought. 

“If I was so fragile, then I doubt that I would have made it into UA,” Yaoyorozu told her sternly. “Please do not worry yourself over me-” 

She cut herself off abruptly by the clouds that formed menacingly above them, which had now begun to still in a way that Yaoyorozu had never before seen a cloud do. The sight of it was more than simply eerie, and Yaoyorozu knew that Hera likely couldn't help it, the phenomenon taking shape of its own accord. Hera shook her head, pushing herself off of Yaoyorozu and pulling her body up into a weak stance, but at least now she was able to stand. 

“You’re my friend, Momo. Of course, I’m going to worry about you,” Hera turned away from her and walked over to retrieve her bag. It felt like it was made of lead, as unnaturally heavy as the rest of her body felt too. Hera cringed internally, knowing that today she was going to be plagued by stiffness and exhaustion, and knowing that tomorrow she was going to be in a world of pain. 

She made her way towards the exit, knowing that a panic attack was still on the table in her current state of mind. All Hera wanted to do was get out of the gym and take a hot shower - or a cold one at this point - fuck it. However, even after thanking Yaoyorozu for chaperoning her this morning, Hera couldn’t shake her. Yaoyorozu stayed by Hera’s side as they entered her dorms, and waited patiently in the hallway for Hera as she showered, probably fearing her friend might pass out in the bathroom. At this point, Hera thought she just might. 

Usually, when Hera was on the verge of a panic attack, the absolute last thing she wanted was an audience. Hera felt immature, like a child throwing a tantrum, but as fate would have it, Yaoyorozu could read people pretty damn well. She was just there, present but just distant enough to give Hera the time she needed to calm herself down. 

They grabbed some breakfast in the cafeteria, Hera opting for a small cup of espresso to pour into her water bottle to sip throughout the day, earning her a worried glance from Yaoyorozu. 

“Are you going to be alright today?” Yaoyorozu wondered aloud. “If it were just our normal classes I wouldn’t be so concerned, but we have Hero training today as well.”

Hera paused for a moment, mentally saying a prayer to whatever gods choosing to listen as she downed the rest of her second coffee. 

“I really fucking hope so,” Hera replied candidly. She sighed, refusing to rest her chin in her hands so she wouldn't pass out right then and there. “There’s no way I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow after today….I’m gonna have to cancel with Todoroki tomorrow.”

Yaoyorozu walked Hera to class, intertwining one of her arms in Hera’s to help support her classmate so she wouldn’t collapse in the middle of the hallway. To any onlooker, it would appear less like Hera was in danger of fainting and using Yaoyorozu as a human crutch, and more like they were just really close friends. 

They beat everyone else to class and Hera deposited herself into her seat before anyone else would notice something was up. Hera cringed internally, realizing that Yaoyorozu wouldn’t be able to help walk her from class to class without tipping off Aizawa, and her muscles were already beginning to protest against her very existence. 

Hera had kept her head down as their classmates had begun to filter in. She briefly told Todoroki that she wouldn't be able to meet up with him tomorrow as he took his own seat. All Hera told him was that something had come up, not that she had ruined herself and needed some time to recuperate. When Todoroki had shared an apprehensive look with Yaoyorozu, she could only mirror his expression with her own.

As their caterpillar teacher shed the skin of his yellow sleeping bag, their class Vice President decided to take matters into her own hands. Yaoyorozu swallowed hard and raised her hand, projecting her voice over their rowdy classmates.

“Professor Aizawa, as our class Vice President and Hera-chan’s friend-” Hera’s head snapped up at her name.

“Don’t you dare-!”

“-it is my duty to inform you that Hera-chan is unable to participate in today’s Hero Exercise. She has overexerted her Quirk and can barely stand up on her own, let alone train.”

Aizawa shot a warning look at Hera, who ignored it as she continued to glare daggers at Yaoyorozu, who looked guilty but stood her ground firmly. All eyes turned to Hera, some in surprise, and others in worry. The tension in the air was that of unease, and some people wondered if Hera was going to protest any further or blow up like Bakugou, who was looking her over analytically from several rows away next to Kirishima. Eventually, Aizawa broke the silence like a warm knife cutting through butter.

“Report to the infirmary immediately,” he ordered Hera.

Hera hesitated, biting her lip in defeated frustration.

“I won’t repeat myself,” Aizawa warned, his voice sounding more alive than it usually did in class, a tone he reserved only in the event one of his students royally fucked up.

“...I don’t think I can walk,” Hera blushed in embarrassment, hating to admit as much in front of her entire class.  _ Shit Yaoyorozu, why you gotta put a sister on blast like that?!  _

Aizawa sighed once in understanding, pinching the bridge of his nose as if the Hero could feel a migraine setting in.

“Then have someone carry you, I really don’t care who. Hurry up, you’ve wasted enough of our class time already,” Aizawa commanded in his signature monotone, pretending not to care. “Or should we get you the wheelchair?”

“On second thought, I think I’d rather crawl,” Hera supplied, dignity be damned as she lost the battle to get out of her seat and stand up, instead of ending up on the floor by Todoroki’s feet. Blushing, Hera made the most out of the situation, waving up at him sheepishly as if to say ‘ _ hello, just dropping by _ ’. 

“I’ll take her,” Todoroki offered resolutely, lifting Hera easily into his arms and carrying her down the stairs, leaving her bag and books behind. Bakugou threw Hera a shit-eating grin, but the mirth didn’t quite reach his eyes. Kirishima only waggled his eyebrows and gave Hera a thumbs up. 

She rolled her eyes, as half of their classmates hooted and hollered at their expense. This earned them a middle finder from Hera as Todoroki walked them towards the door, and almost right smack into All Might. 

The Pro Hero looked down at them and raised one of his dramatic blond eyebrows, to which Hera simply responded with a shrug and, “We’ve eloped.”

Todoroki had practically gone into cardiac arrest, nearly dropping Hera right there in his surprise. The comment had simultaneously left All Might speechless. The rest of their class were in hysterics as Hera and Todoroki disappeared down the hallway. All Might look to Aizawa for an explanation, to which Aizawa corrected Hera’s eccentric statement.

“Quirk fatigue,” was all their tired homeroom teacher said on Hera’s behalf.

“Ah,” All Might responded knowingly, a beads of sweat forming nervously on his forehead. 

* * *

~Meanwhile~

“Sorry for the crude joke,” Hera offered, finally giving in to her exhaustion and caving, leaning on Todoroki’s shoulder, no longer able to support the weight of her head as her strength began to fade. “You took it like a champ, though.”

He wasn’t about to let Hera know that he couldn’t have spoken back there even if he wanted to, his brain having short-circuited the second she had uttered the words, ‘ _ We’ve eloped _ .’ And to fucking All Might no less. Todoroki also wasn’t about to let her know that his mind was still replaying that moment over and over, the echo of her voice still haunting his thoughts.

“...Are you in any pain?” Todoroki redirected, ignoring the odd fluttering in his stomach at the feel of Hera’s warmth flush up against him, and her soft breath against his collarbone. It struck him then that he had never been so close to a girl before, or anyone for that matter.

“Not yet,” Hera informed him earnestly, “but the soreness should set in tomorrow. Right now I’m just stiff and exhausted.”

“You didn’t explain that to me earlier,” Todoroki accused, continuing his brisque pace as they neared the infirmary. 

“I did say that something came up,” Hera offered pathetically in the argument. “Overworking myself to the point of exhaustion...is something,” Hera whispered as the walls around them started to distort and blur. Noticing her negative change in energy, Todoroki quickened his pace.

“Omission of the truth or failing to expand upon something is just as bad as lying,” Todoroki reprimanded Hera as they arrived at the infirmary and placed her onto one of the empty beds, not seeing Recovery Girl. He knew that the Hero was likely notified of their arrival, so Todoroki would wait with Hera until she arrived.

“We can argue over what a terrible person I am...when I have the energy to argue,” Hera raised her arm to lightly swat at his chest, but Todoroki made no effort to block it.

“...I don’t think that you’re a terrible person,” Todoroki corrected. “I do think that you should be more honest with your friends, and not push yourself so hard on your own like this.”

Hera laughed darkly. “Oh, I’m a terrible person, Shoto,” she breathed. Todoroki’s steps faltered slightly, and he thought that she must truly be out of it to have used his first name so easily. He also thought that there was something wrong with him, too, for having liked the sound of her voice using his name without honorifics to such a degree. 

“You should probably apologize to Yaoyorozu for outing you to Aizawa-sensei like that,” Todoroki continued, pulling the bedsheets over Hera’s legs as she shrugged off her uniform’s jacket. Todoroki had attempted to turn away from her but offered his assistance when he noticed Hera having some difficulty with the simple task, taking a seat at the edge of her bed. 

His eyes trailed over the scars on Hera’s arms, having never seen the marks so close up. He had noted them during training when they were in the short sleeves of their tracksuits, but Todoroki hadn’t commented on them. He took in the branch like bruises that inked their way across Hera’s skin, the reds and purples several shades darker than his own scar.

“I will,” Hera promised him as she laid back onto the bed and rested her eyes, snapping Todoroki out of his daze. “I’m more pissed off as myself than at Momo. I know that she was only keeping my best interests at heart.”

“You should start doing the same,” Todoroki offered. “Throwing yourself back into a hospital bed every time you train won’t get you any results physically, or with your Quirk's progression.”

“I’m gonna be hearing this all day, aren't I? ” Hera rolled her eyes beneath their closed lids. 

“I’m serious,” Todoroki pressed. “You’re almost as bad as Midoriya.”

“Ouch,” Hera cringed in mock offense. “Alright, but if I don’t place in at least the top ten in the Sports Festival then I’m coming after you,” she swatted Todoroki again.

“You not placing among that range is hardly related to pacing your body at a sane rate, but is rather a testament to your lack of skill,” Todoroki corrected her with a shrug, and Hera had to look up at him to see if he was being serious. What she found on his face was the beginnings of a smirk.

“Keep saying things like that in such a monotone voice and you’re gonna get hit,” Hera swatted at his chest again for emphasis, and he continued to take it. “For a second there I thought you were just being a dick, not actually worrying about me.”

“Sorry,” Todoroki offered with the same but unintentional lack of empathy. Or perhaps this time his tone was intentional. “I’ll have to work on that.”

“I thought I told you not to overwork yourself, Miss Gale,” creaked the sudden voice of Recovery Girl, whose eyes barely spared Todoroki a glance before the Pro got busy taking Hera’s vitals. Once she discerned that Todoroki was uninjured, Recovery Girl cared little for his presence in the room, so long as he stayed out of her way. Recovery Girl only dismissed Todoroki after she had administered Hera a blood transfusion, having temporarily forgotten he was still present. 

The Hero retrieved an oxygen mask and placed it over Hera’s nose and mouth in one swift motion, and Hera hadn’t the energy to protest, but she did roll her eyes in exasperation. She regretted it instantly, and suddenly it felt like Hera was swimming underwater. Her limbs felt simultaneously heavy but light, and Hera lost the battle to keep her eyes open any longer. 

“I’ll bring your bag during lunch,” Todoroki had offered Hera in an attempt to comfort her, only to find that she was already asleep. As if sensing his worry, Recovery Girl informed Todoroki that had Hera come to the infirmary any later than she may have gone downhill much sooner. The Hero told Todoroki that she would be waking Hera up for lunch and that he was free to stay and visit when he brought her things. 

Todoroki spared Hera a final worried glance, taking in all of the tubes and the transparent mask over her face as if fogged up with her every breath and wryly forced his legs to return him to class. 

* * *

Kirishima watched in worry with the rest of their peers as Todoroki silently returned to class, exchanging a brief nod with Professor Aizawa before taking his seat. Kirishima chanced a glimpse over to Bakugou, who was gripping his mechanical pencil so hard the plastic of it quietly squeaked in protest. 

“We can check on her at lunch,” Kirishima had whispered to Bakugou to keep under Aizawa’s radar.

“Who said I was worried about Midget?” Bakugou had growled back at him at a slightly higher volume.

“I’m worried about her,” Kirishima had stated in his defense. “It doesn’t make you weak to care about a friend, dude.”

Bakugou wanted to strangle Kirishima for daring to lecture him about feelings, or hit something to get rid of the disgusting way his gut twisted at Kirishima’s words as Bakugou’s traitorous mind kept replaying Todoroki carrying Hera out of class. He didn’t fucking need this shit right now, or ever really. Hera was going to be fine, the bitch just needs to stop fucking pushing herself so damn hard and get some sleep. End of story.

The bell signaling the end of homeroom chimed, and Bakugou turned to watch Icy-Hot and Ponytail gather up Hera’s books to pack up her school bag. 

Bakugou grit his teeth so hard Kirishima swore he could hear the popping clench of his jaw.

“I’m worried about Hera-chan…” Yaoyorozu trailed off at Todoroki’s side as they made their way to their next period. “Do you think she’s furious with me?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Todoroki replied honestly. “But I don’t think Hera is the type to hold grudges, especially when you were only keeping her health in mind.” Todoroki paused. “You’re a good friend, and Hera appreciates being around you more than she'll admit. Even I can see that.”

Yaoyorozu teared up, but she blinked the waterworks away as Present Mic’s infamous voice boomed into the room to start their English lesson. Somehow Bakugou hadn’t snapped at them or rudely inserted himself into their conversation, so Kirishima decided to distract him, as it was doubtful the blond’s focus was entirely on the lecture. He flicked a note over to Bakugou.

‘ _ Think we can bring Hera something from Lunch Rush _ ?’ Kirishima had written in red pen - his writing pretty fucking sloppy in Bakugou’s opinion - because of course, he would choose that color.

_ ‘You act like the old lady won’t feed her _ ,’ Bakugou had replied, including with the line,  _ ‘Do what you want, but leave me out of it _ .’

Kirishima grinned wildly.

‘ _ I could always spoon-feed her _ ~’ Kirishma had replied with a winking face. ‘ _ No idea what kind of food she likes though, but she said Recovery Girl has her eating a lot of meat _ .’

‘ _ Hera said she doesn’t even like meat that much _ ,’ came Bakugou’s angry reply. ‘ _ Pay attention, Shitty Hair. I’m not dealing with Mic’s shit toda _ -’ Bakugou had attempted to write but was cut off by none other than the Hero himself. 

When Mic threatens to confiscate their notes and read them out loud to the class, Bakugou explodes the evidence, but Kirishima covers their asses by announcing that they were just trying to plan something nice to do for Hera during lunch. With everyone’s ears deathly close to being deafened, Mic lets their note-passing slide and grants the two a one-time warning. 

The class gave Bakugou shit for worrying about Hera in his own grumpy manor, and all at once the majority of their class decidedly found their problem child’s off-putting personality a tad less...well, off-putting. ‘Bakugou the Great,’ ‘Sir Holier Than Thou,’ was worried about his friend’s health, and he may never live this down.

* * *

As Todoroki made his way to the nurse’s office for a second time, all he could think about was how weak she was when he left her there. The oxygen mask, the blood transfusion, the IVs. He had invited Yaoyorozu to come along with him, wondering if he should warn her about how serious Hera’s condition might initially look. Would the hospital set upset Yaoyorozu? Todoroki shook his head, forcibly dismissing the thought of their Class Vice ever becoming so squeamish. She chose to be a Hero, just like he had. If a few IVs were enough to scare her away, then she shouldn’t be in such a profession.

Yaoyorozu feared Hera still needed some time to forgive her. Still, Yaoyorozu had at least accompanied Todoroki to order a tray of foods she remembered Hera seemed to enjoy. She helped carry the food until they reached the door to the infirmary, but she parted ways with Todoroki just shy of entering the room.

Todoroki hesitated, pausing just outside the entrance to take in Yaoyorozu’s uncharacteristically meek demeanor. 

“Wait here a moment,” he announced with no further instructions. When Todoroki reappeared, he was no longer carrying Hera’s bag or his own. “...She’s still asleep if you want to see her,” Todoroki breathed gently, slowly coaxing Yaoyorozu inside. 

For a moment, she looked at Todoroki like he had just offered her the world, eyes sparkling with fresh tears once again.

Hera lay limply against the pillows, no longer in her school uniform but in a loose button-down pajama set with long sleeves. The depleted bag of blood hung from the metal pole beside her as Recovery Girl skillfully removed the IV from Hera’s arm without waking her. She looked so pale, the dark bags beneath her eyes announcing her anemia and exhaustion to the world. Yaoyorozu covered her mouth with one hand while Todoroki took the food from her other, presenting the tray to Recovery Girl to give to Hera as their class Vice President choked back tears.

“Oh wonderful,” the Hero said with a lilt in her voice. “I was just about to wake her.” 

Todoroki turned to Yaoyorozu. “I think you did the right thing,” he told her. Nodding, Yaoyorozu politely excused herself from the room, and almost ran smack into Bakugou and Kirishima. 

“Oh, Yaoyorozu-san!” Kirishima greeted with a toothy smile and a polite wave, his face falling immediately when he saw her tears. “Hey, are you alright there?” 

She stammered for an excuse, but Bakugou saved her the breath, reaching over Kirishima’s shoulder and swiftly pulling the handkerchief from her uniform jacket’s lapel and tossing it onto her face. 

“Weren’t you going somewhere?” Bakugou reminded her huskily, pushing past both Yaoyorozu and Kirishima to stand before Todoroki - menacingly. Their Class Vice managed a small thank you to Bakugou, while Kirishima made a mental note to complement his angry friend for his tactfulness later. In what he would forever deny as jealousy, Bakugou spat, “How’s your Princess doing?”

He thought about how light Hera looked in Todoroki’s arms, and a small part of Bakugou -one that was not currently planning his rival’s murder - wondered passingly if Hera had lost any weight since  _ he _ had last held her. 

“Hopefully better after the blood transfusion and some rest,” Todoroki countered curtly, not knowing what exactly Bakugou had meant by the ‘your Princess’ comment, which had surely been a loaded question. Todoroki was here to check on Hera, not fight with Bakugou. 

Kirishima had noted the way Bakugou’s eyes had narrowed at the words ‘blood transfusion,’ but before the conversation could get any more hostile, Recovery Girl ushered the three of them over to the waiting area by the door. But before the Hero disappeared behind the wheeled ceiling curtains to wake Hera, Recovery Girl decided to shake the boat a bit.

“Instead of fighting amongst each other like children, why don’t one of you boys man up and actually ask the girl out on a date?”

And for the first time since the last time Hera had shut him down, Bakugou was for a moment rendered speechless. He found his voice after viewing similar dumbstruck expressions on Kirishima and Todoroki. Blushing and bashful, stammering ‘no it’s not like that’ as their gazes either fell to the floor or wandered anywhere else. Bakugou had only just opened his mouth to give the old woman a strongly worded piece of his mind, but the sound of Hera’s pained voice as she came to shut him up immediately.

“Wake up, dearie,” Recovery Girl coaxed in a stern yet gentle voice. “Time to eat. It’s already lunchtime.”

It took Hera several long seconds to reply. “...This is humiliating, but I really don’t think I can sit up on my own,” Hera rasped in annoyance, her voice still groggy from sleep. “My abs are screaming,” she sighed dramatically. “I am going to be  _ so _ sore tomorrow!”

“Well look, alive sweetheart,” Recovery Girl heaved her up against the pillows, “because you have visitors. Do you wanna freshen up before I bring them over?”

Hera reached for her phone on the end table to check the time. It was already 25 mins past noon, and she didn’t wanna take up any more of their time. She debated her options and sighed. 

“Screw it,” Hera allowed as she furiously rubbed the sleep from her eyes and attempted to straighten out her bed head. “I’m sure I probably look like death right now anyway.” Hera watched as Recovery Girl parted the curtains and the guys filtered in. “I thought I heard your loud ass,” Hera directed at Bakugou with a chuckle. 

And so the chaos began. The boys took turns catching up with Hera as Recovery Girl took it upon herself to lay out the feast that they had brought for her. Todoroki didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, but after they all started eating, Bakugou had paused in harassing Todoroki so he could stuff his face. Noticing this, Hera made an effort to keep Todoroki involved in their conversations as much as she could.

“I think you should check on Yaoyorozu-san when you get the chance,” Todoroki interjected after Hera’s conversation with Kirishima and Bakugou about getting her back into shape had come to a close. “She feels guilty for outing you to Professor Aizawa.”

Hera reached out for her phone and ordered it to call ‘Legs for Days.’ The guys just looked at her, dumbfounded. 

“What?” Hera defended. “Yaoyorozu has beautiful legs! I also think that I’d actually kill for skin that perfect,” she added resolutely. Bakugou couldn’t bring himself to come up with a counter to the vulnerability hinted in Hera’s words. Kirishima was about to tell Hera that she also had nice legs, but thankfully Yaoyorozu answered the phone before he could royally embarrass himself.

“...Hello?” Yaoyorozu answered timidly, and Hera swore she could detect her sniffles. 

“Oh Hell no you’re crying in some bathroom right now,” Hera snapped when she heard her friend’s voice echo suspiciously. “I’m sorry I overreacted back in homeroom this morning. You put me on blast and I was pretty pissed off, but you were just looking out for me. I promise I’ll get over myself.”

“Really? You aren’t angry with me?” floated Yaoyorozu’s musical soprano through Hera’s beat-up smartphone. 

“I will be if you don’t join me for lunch in the next 60 seconds,” Hera warned her playfully.

“But I am on the other side of campus-!”

“-57, 56,55,” Hera teased and Yaoyorozu ended the call hastily, promising to be right over. Hera shared a look with the guys, pleased with herself for getting what she wanted without even lifting a finger.

“You can be terrifying sometimes, you know that?” Kirishima smirked at Hera with raised eyebrows.

Hera shrugged nonchalantly, “I try.”

* * *

It went unspoken that Hera would be staying the night in the infirmary, but Recovery Girl did announce that Hera would not be attending classes the next day. Hera slept until sunset, the final bells of dismissal whisking away the student body as she slumbered, dead to the world. The Hero announced that she was going to run some blood work and a few tests on Hera tomorrow just to be safe. Recovery Girl explained that overusing a quirk could cause some serious fatigue, as well as other sometimes lasting symptoms if left untreated. 

Hera was stressed about missing an afternoon of Hero training and at least two days of school, but she knew that the book work could be easily made up. She sighed, trying to relax as much as she could given the circumstances, even as her muscles started to throb in overexertion. Upset that she had wasted the better part of the day sleeping, Hera reached for her school bag and pulled out her Japanese textbook, determined to review its grammar rules until exhaustion came for her again. 

Recovery Girl had given Hera a look of disapproval but ultimately ignored the activity since it wasn’t strenuous.

Hera’s peace was shattered the moment Aizawa set foot in the infirmary. She sat up hastily, marking her place in her textbook and setting it to the side as she fought to find something to say.

“Sensei! I-I’m sorry about today. I’ll still complete all of my assignments on time and-” Aizawa held up a hand to silence her, briefly noting her textbook.

“I questioned your so-called chaperones,” Aizawa informed her. “Kirishima and Bakugou each admitted to your physical struggles as you trained in Gym Gamma. I’m upset to know that only Yaoyorozu-san had the sense to alert me just how much you were destroying yourself.”

“Then I have nothing to say in my defense,” Hera said sullenly, averting her gaze as her face fell. “I won’t let it happen again.”

Aizawa sighed, sitting down heavily in the seat beside her. “Do you honestly think that I wouldn’t be willing to reschedule your time slots? If you needed a day to rest I certainly wouldn’t have penalized you. It’s important to know your limits, and not just as a Hero, but as an adult as well.”

Hera took his words to heart but hesitated with what she knew she needed to say next.

“...Aizawa-sensei?” she ventured. 

“What is it?” the Pro asked rudely, but Hera could tell that he wasn’t actually annoyed with her. If he truly didn’t care for her well-being then he wouldn’t have come after school to check up on her. Hera told herself as much, at least. Hera took a leap of faith, despite how her terror started attacking her body against her will. It was already reacting in her distress, heart racing, and throat closing up in dread.

“...Have you heard of the town of Haven, Oklahoma?” 

Aizawa nodded knowingly, at first not quite connecting the dots. But then all at once, his eyes lit up in realization. 

“...That was you??”

However, Hera had misinterpreted his awed expression as one of horror, and soon her body had thrown itself into a panic attack so powerful and so debilitating that Recovery Girl had to issue a sedative just to get her breathing back under control. She was sobbing uncontrollably, and it took both Aizawa and Recovery Girl to keep Hera’s body from shaking. Thunder boomed above them, shaking the concrete walls of UA from high in the stratosphere, but there were no clouds in sight. She was sick of lying to everyone, to herself, but Hera knew that she would never be able to control her Quirk on her own. The years of guilt had taken a toll on her, and Hera was sick of hating herself all of the time. 

“...-I lost- *hic* control,” Hera cried into Aizawa’s shoulder. “I have to-*hic* I have to get better- with my Quirk,” Hera wheezed desperately, clutching at her tightened chest until her knuckles audibly cracked. “-It’s not just guilt- I really do- want to help people!” Hera sobbed as the memories of that infamous day haunted her, replaying her father chasing her into the cornfield, the tornado, and then ultimately her attempted suicide using her own lightning. Hera wanted to tell them, but soon she found herself becoming dizzy from the lack of air.

“Breathe kid,” Aizawa ordered Hera because nothing Recovery Girl said was getting through to her. He exchanged looks with Recovery Girl. “We’re right here.”

“Who else knows?” the old woman asked gently.

“My guardian, Samuel,” Hera rasped, finally feeling the drugs taking some effect. “Probably Principal Nezu. Sam knows him personally and pulled some strings for me. I demonstrated my wind in front of some Pros on the city council in Tokyo. That’s how I got into UA, but I don’t think that they know anything about where I’m from.” 

“Three things need to happen,” Aizawa announced Hera, releasing his hold on her only after he was convinced she was calm enough to breathe. He held up a finger, “I need your consent to see a therapist,” he held up a second, “I need to have a talk with both your guardian and Principal Nezu,” finally Aizawa held up a third, “and I want you to pay a visit to Japan’s International Quirk Registry as soon as you are cleared to train by Recovery Girl. The limits of your abilities need to be legally tested and kept on file. If you plan to debut as a Hero after earning your Provisional License and you lose control again in a populated area, something like ‘ _ yeah I can do more than just create wind _ ’ isn’t going to fly, kid. We need to get this done before the Sports Festival. Immediately.”

Hera took a moment to process what he had asked of her, before agreeing to his terms. She had let her mental and emotional states spiral too far out of hand, so Hera supposed being poked and prodded by a few scientists was a fair enough compromise. Hopefully one of them was able to help give her some answers, and if not then a little bit of closure to motivate her going forward. So for now, she would keep the true origin of her scars a secret.


	18. Fragility

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Eighteen

* * *

Hera spent today much like the one before, dancing between the two realms of consciousness and oblivion. The intense ache currently throbbing in her muscles was just as horrible as she had predicted it would be. Hera slept until woken for meals while Recovery Girl monitored her body’s condition, and dealt out anti-inflammatory pain medications throughout the day as Hera needed them. Her abs were unbelievably sore, even breathing too deeply made her wince in discomfort.

The Hero was reluctant to use her Quirk on Hera in fear of throwing the student into a full-blown coma. She knew that Hera could more than use a dose of cell regeneration to help speed up her healing, but opted against it when Hera woke with a fever earlier that morning as her immune system was already struggling to function.

Aizawa had come to visit Hera once again after the tolling of the final bell signaled the end of the school day, academically speaking at least. He informed her that she would begin seeing a therapist as soon as she was well enough to be discharged from the infirmary, announcing that the school had already spoken with Samuel. He informed Hera that she would be allowed to attend classes on Monday on the conditions her fever had broken, and also if she was feeling up to it in the first place. As Aizawa produced several packets of homework from Hera’s courses and plopped them lazily on the end table beside her gurney, he announced that they would be scheduling a chaperoned trip to Japan’s Quirk Registry as soon as she was able.

“Without legally registering every detail you currently know about your Quirk you could be held liable for withholding information from the government, and therefore rendered unable to participate in the Sports Festival,” Aizawa cautioned her. The thin sheen of sweat on Hera’s flushed face only brought him further concern. “How are you feeling, kid?”

“On a scale of one to death?” Hera inquired smartly. “The walls are spinning, and I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck: so death. I feel like death.”

“If you’re still feeling fatigued within the next several days then I’ll have no choice but to suspend your Hero courses until Recovery Girl clears you to return to physical training,” Aizawa compromised, deciding that if Hera still had the energy to make quips like that then she couldn’t be feeling that bad. “In the meantime, focus on taking it easy and try to keep up with your studies. Get some rest,” Aizawa told her with an assuring pat on the shoulder.

“Will do,” Hera numbly threw up a peace sign in response, her voice as weak and hollow as she currently felt.

* * *

She was thankfully discharged from the infirmary later that afternoon. Recovery Girl deemed Hera stable enough to return to her dorm without the need for supervision, even though her fever had yet to go down. After a fair amount of pestering, Recovery Girl begrudgingly allowed Hera to leave the infirmary, and Hera reveled in the privilege to finally sleep in her own bed again. The Hero decided that Hera’s fever would break once her body caught up with her fatigue, but that Hera’s condition was stable enough to let her return to the dorms.

Hera briefly popped into their class group chat to announce her discharge to her friends, and the chat went crazy almost instantly. She assured everyone that it was merely a bad case of Quirk fatigue and nothing too serious. Hera hadn’t mentioned how high her fever was, but that didn’t stop everyone from worrying. As a result, Hera was now reading several long paragraphs being furiously typed by Ida and Midoriya about how to reduce a fever. As well as life lessons on how to take better care of herself in the future.

After being bombarded by her classmates wishing her well for the better part of an hour, Hera announced that she was gonna be up for a while studying if anyone needed to reach her. What she hadn’t expected was a separate conversation via text with Kirishima and Bakugou, and a simultaneous phone call from Todoroki.

Hera hesitated for a solid two rings, flustered by all of the sudden attention but happy to hear from the guys. She tried to keep the weariness from her voice as she answered Todoroki barely in time for the last ring.

“Hey To,” Hera greeted cheerfully, mentally kicking herself for the sudden nickname, one apparently neither of them were expecting. Unbeknownst to Hera, however, the little nickname had sent his mind racing, his heart skipping a beat because it just outright forgot to function.

“...Well, I certainly wasn’t prepared for that,” Todoroki responded honestly in his usual monotone, but while it sounded a touch surprised he didn’t seem to be offended.

“Yeah sorry, uh…” Hera stammered. “I was homeschooled for my middle school years so...sometimes I just don’t know how to talk to people?”

“I can relate,” Todoroki supplied. “To the nervousness I mean.” Hera laughed lightly in agreement, her phone lightly buzzing against her ear as she received a text from Bakugou.

**B- You deaf or something? Or is your stupid phone on mute?**

**K- Hey take it easy man, she might not be near it.**

**H- Not deaf, but now I feel dead in both body and spirit. Maybe I’ll lose the will to share a classroom with Explodey and finally keel over.** (Hera added with a skull emoji.)

“Are you there?” Todoroki wondered worriedly when Hera didn’t say anything for a long moment, or maybe it just felt long to him.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that,” Hera answered quickly. “Kirishima and Bakugou are texting me. I’m terrible at multitasking,” she laughed in slight embarrassment.

“I see,” Todoroki voiced in understanding. “I hope Bakugou can at least be civil to a sick person over the phone.”

“Oh God, it’s even worse over text!” Hera laughed wholeheartedly this time. “Kirishima is being so polite and checking up on me, but Bakugou sounds just as rude. Save for the yelling, I guess. Maybe Kirishima added him to the group chat without telling him and it caught him off guard?”

“Bakugou off guard,” Todoroki tested the words on his tongue, apparently liking the idea of it because Hera could hear the smirk in his tone. “Now there’s something I’d like to see.” There was another pause again as Hera received another round of messages from them, and Todoroki waited patiently. There was a part of him for some reason that was unwilling to let their conversation be cut short, especially by the likes of Bakugou.

“They’re asking if I’m gonna be in class tomorrow,” Hera supplied after another moment. “Apparently Bakugou says he wants me to ‘ _hurry up and get better so he can kick my ass in the Sports Festival_ ’.”

“He really is impossible,” Todoroki said with a sigh.

“Wanna mess with him?” Hera offered mischievously.

“Always,” Todoroki replied without a second's hesitation. “But shouldn't you be studying or resting up?”

“Probably both,” Hera responded knowingly, uncaring if she was tired or not. “Don’t worry, this won’t take long. How about something like, ‘ _Only if you don’t lose to Todoroki first_.’?”

“Send it,” Todoroki confirmed with a nod Hera swore she could feel through the phone.

“ _Are_ you returning to class on Monday?” he continued curiously as Hera hit send.

“If my fever breaks, then yeah I plan to,” Hera told him honestly. “It was Recovery Girl’s condition. Even if I do return to school this week, I’m forbidden from doing any physical training until the Sports Festival. She said that I’m not actually sick, though. I’ve just overworked myself and she says my fever is from the Quirk fatigue.”

“Forbidden from training?” Todoroki wondered worriedly. “I thought you were feeling better.”

“I have to go to Tokyo after classes on Wednesday to give a demonstration at the Quirk Registry,” Hera explained timidly. “Aizawa-sensei said I can’t compete in the Sports Festival unless my Quirk information is up to date in the Registry. With the big day less than a week away, Aizawa-sensei and Recovery Girl don’t want me to risk exhausting myself before the Festival.”

“You did recently discover that you can manipulate water,” Todoroki offered, his brows creasing a little in suspicion. “And apparently the teachers didn’t know about your lightning until you summoned it on the first day of school. ...However, I get the sense that you were already aware of your lighting, which begs the question. Why hide something concerning your Quirk while attending a Hero Academy? Especially when flaunting such a flashy set of abilities could only benefit you in terms of your popularity?”

Hera felt her stomach drop.

“You really need to warn someone when you wanna get real like that,” Hera sighed. Her throat was starting to close up as her anxiety began to rise, so Hera responded before it could. “I trust you, but I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it,” Hera told Todoroki honestly. “It’s...it’s pretty big. What I did a few years ago.”

The words she said next were so raw that they had Todoroki wanting desperately to see her face, to be where she was. It sounded like Hera was crying and it made him want to cheer her up, even if he didn’t quite know how to do something like that.

“I...hurt a lot of people with my Quirk when I was younger. I’m terrified that...if I say anything else you’ll...avoid me.” Todoroki was thoughtful for a moment, taken aback by the shake in Hera’s usual confidence as it manifested through the quiver in her voice.

“Whatever you may have done, I can see that you regret it. That you’re trying to make amends with your mistakes. That is enough for me. You are a good person, Hera-san,” Todoroki announced resolutely.

‘Even if I killed people?’ Hera wondered but didn’t say. Her phone buzzing once again with Bakugou’s angry reply was her saving grace.

“Oh, B finally responded,” Hera announced, and Todoroki found it loathsome that someone as cruel as Bakugou of all people deserved such an innocent nickname from her. “He says ‘ _You better take that back or I’ll kill you, Short Stack! I don’t care that you’ve overworked yourself! I’ll destroy anyone stupid enough to believe that I’d ever lose to that Half n’ Half bastard! You better not be talking to him right now you damn traitor!_ ’ end quote.”

“He is truly ridiculous,” Todoroki sighed into the speaker of his phone, the sound of his breath sending an involuntary shiver down Hera’s spine. God he really needs to stop doing that or he might just kill her. “Perhaps you shouldn’t rile him up.”

“If he hits me first then it’s not my fault what I do to him for the sake of self-defense,” Hera shrugged, unthreatened. “Have you seen the way he interacts with women though? He’s super awkward around girls. Bakugou never talks to them unless they initiate it first, and when he does he’s always yelling. He isn’t like that with the guys. Like he’s grumpy but a lot less hostile.”

“...I have noticed that actually,” Todoroki said slowly in realization, remembering little instances here and there. “I didn’t realize you were so observant.”

“Well I’m fairly socially awkward so I guess it takes one to know one,” Hera hummed lightly in affirmation, and Todoroki almost let himself think it was adorable. “So what should I reply to Angry Boi this time around?”

“Tell him that if he attempts to harm you prior to the Sports Festival that he’ll have me to answer to. Crushing someone so arrogant shouldn’t be incredibly difficult,” Todoroki quipped, begrudgingly lowering himself to Hera’s level if only to keep her entertained. He allowed the beginnings of a smile to grace his lips, thoughtful. Interacting with her like this made him feel like a normal teenager, and it felt liberating.

“I’m telling him you said all of that!” Hera cackled through the phone, being sure to keep an eye on the time. It was a little after five, so she should probably head over to the cafeteria for dinner before- “Oh God he’s calling me,” she screeched in excitement. 

“Don’t answer him. He doesn’t deserve to interrupt us,” Todoroki's smile evolved into a grin, but like Hera’s maniacal laughter his smile was anything but pure.

“Damn To, I didn’t realize you had it in you,” Hera laughed. “Alright, the ‘ _f-u button_ ’ it is.”

“Pardon?” Todoroki inquired, confused.

“You know, the end call button?” Hera told him. “So the phone stops ringing and he takes the hint I’m done with him and his shit right now.”

“Ah,” Todoroki said simply in understanding. He looked at the time himself, knowing that he should probably leave Hera to study now. “I suppose I should let you go now. Don’t study too hard,” he told her.

“I won’t,” Hera promised him. “I have all day tomorrow to catch up on my school work before Monday, I just wanted to get a head start on some of it. Thank you for calling me, I’ve really missed you guys. See you in class hopefully?”

“Mmhm,” Todoroki man-grunted in response and Hera thought she was going to die because it was so stereotypically cute. “See you in class.”

* * *

The rest of Hera’s night was pretty boring, her only excursion being her trip to the cafeteria for dinner, but as it was a Saturday night there weren’t many people there. None she knew anyway. Hera recognized a few faces from Class 1-B, who luckily failed to notice her. Looks like everyone else was either still training or eating dinner with their families, but Hera still didn’t want to eat alone.

She entered the short dinner line and decided quickly on a salad and some fried eggplant parmesan. Hera knew that she probably needed some meat for the sake of the iron, but in the end, the comfort food had ultimately won. Hera took her seat at one of the many empty lunch tables by the windows, hoping to enjoy the now vibrant sunset while she ate since she was at a loss for company. She was the only one in the cafeteria in sweats rather than in their school’s uniform or tracksuit, but no one called her out on it so Hera decided she was in the clear.

Then a boy from Class 1-B entered the lunchroom with bright purple hair as Hera munched on her second roll of bread, looking even worse for wear than she felt when Todoroki carried her off to the infirmary a few days ago. ‘Oh yeah that happened,’ Hera cringed at the thought, praying that everyone had already forgotten about it. It wasn’t until she accidentally made eye contact with the boy that Hera realized she had been zoning out, and now she hated herself for being stupid enough to be caught staring.

She tried to focus her attention back to her food, but just as Hera started to relax after a moment of peace the boy appeared with his own tray of food. He took a seat at her table of all places in the cafeteria, not at the far end of the table or right next to her, but near enough. The boy didn’t greet Hera, and if he was looking at her she wouldn’t know because she was freaking out too much to look up. And now Hera was afraid to eat because she knew she was a messy eater and that she’d probably just make a fool of herself and-

And then Hera heard the soft sound of a camera shutter, abruptly realizing that the purple-haired boy wasn’t even looking at her because he was taking a picture of the badass orange sunset happening outside through the windows. Composing herself with what was left of her pride, Hera finished her meal and walked over to a nearby trash can to clear her tray. She risked one last glance at the boy again, and she blushed even harder when he looked up at her.

Hera spared him a wave and offered the stranger a small smile to be polite, not expecting anything back in return but feeling guilty for being caught staring at him. Again! While he didn’t fully smile back, the boy did offer Hera a lazy smirk and a wave of his own, and Hera left the lunchroom as giddy as a little kid who may have just made themself a new friend.

* * *

As luck would have it, the purple-haired boy was none other than Shinsou Hitoshi of Class 1-B. It was Hera’s first day back to school and here stood her seemingly friendly acquaintance from the cafeteria, along with his entire class and several other Support Course students.

But like the rest of the students that blocked the door with him, Shinsou looked anything but happy. This time he was demanding that Class 1-A bring the pain to the Sports Festival if they were really as great as the media was claiming they all were. He and his class were convinced that every person in their class was just as arrogant as Bakugou, said angry blond having acted as much before he stormed off.

A few students around him muttered something about how cocky they all must be feeling just because they survived a Villain attack. And that touched a nerve with Hera. Ignoring Shinsou whose ailments were at least relatable despite being false to assume that every individual in her class was cut from the same cloth, Hera waltzed right up in the face of one of the guys who had been talking shit. Hera didn’t give a fuck that he was built like a brick shithouse and over a foot taller than her.

“I’m sorry that our class was attacked by a fucking Villain Syndicate and stole your thunder,” Hera ground out darkly in sarcasm, the pun unintended. “I’m sorry that the media is all about us instead of you idiots. But you know what I’m not sorry for?”

She grabbed the blond boy by the tie of his shirt and yanked him roughly down to her level with a force that shocked him.

“All of the nightmares I had following the attack. All of the close calls we survived by long shots, and some by the skin of our teeth. All of those experiences gave us something that you bastards desperately need even more than we probably do: a damn reality check. So don’t you dare waltz into our class and hate on us like we’re all enjoying all the limelight and didn’t suffer any sort of trauma.” Hera released the blond-haired boy, his tie now in desperate need of ironing.

“I don’t doubt any of your skills in combat, but you bastards weren’t there. I wouldn’t wish that shit on anybody.”

“You better pray that you can back up all of that talk,” warned another girl who whistled like she had more to say. She had purple skin and snakes for hair. “You’ll look pretty stupid when we kick your ass in the Sports Festival.” Hera only spared her an empty look, a dangerous glimmer in her eyes.

“And you better pray that you don’t have to fight me, bitch” Hera said simply before shouldering roughly past them all and out into the hallway, leaving her classmates speechless and Shinsou looking upon her departing figure just as angrily as he had Bakugou.

* * *

“I can’t believe you stood up to those students like that!” Kaminari gushed as Hera took her seat at their lunch table. “Remind me to stay on your good side.”

“Likewise,” Tokoyami chimed in, Dark Shadow innocently munching on a pizza bagel to his left. “I had no idea you had such a dark side.”

“Everyone has a dark side,” Hera told him seriously, scanning the lunchroom for Todoroki who was nowhere in sight.

“That was really cool of you to stand up for us like that,” Kirishima praised as he offered Hera a fist bump, one she returned wholeheartedly. “Bakugou may have made a dramatic exit, but at least you spoke up for us.” 

“Anytime. I’m momma bear. I protect my cubs,” Hera waved them off, speaking through a mouthful of soup and bread.

“Well we didn’t ask for your protection,” Bakugou slammed his fist against the table, shaking their trays. “And who the Hell are you calling ‘cubs,’ Midget?”

“I wasn’t defending you, actually,” Hera corrected him, unaffected by his show of violence. “I’m not the one who left our classmates behind with a bunch of shit-talking wannabes to make my own grand exit, at least not until I put the bastards in their place first. Take it down a notch, Sparky. Not everything is about you.”

“What the hell- SAY THAT TO MY FACE BITCH!!!” Bakugou snapped, making to jump over the table to have a go at Hera, but the guys managed to hold him back.

Unperturbed, Hera wordlessly peeled back the plastic lid of the blueberry yogurt she grabbed in line for dessert, before languidly taking a delicate spoonful into her mouth to taunt Bakugou. Who knew cheating death could be this fun?

Their lunch period flew by quickly, and while Hera had enjoyed the friendly banter - as hostile as it may have appeared to some - she never did figure out where Todoroki had wandered off to. Maybe he wanted to eat outside for a change of scenery? But this time when Hera texted him after school, Todoroki didn’t respond to her. His behavior deteriorated further as the week progressed, and Hera tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.

She knew full well who his dad was, and as the son of the Number Two Hero she attributed Todoroki’s aloofness to all of the stress from living in that shadow. Rumors of him only being allowed into UA as a Recommendation student based on who his father was spread like wildfire as they neared the Sports Festival. She could only imagine the pressure forced upon him as the son of a celebrity. Still, that didn’t excuse Todoroki from ignoring her texts and refusing to interact with her in class.

Hera was angry at Todoroki and at his sudden fixation with Midoriya for reasons she had yet to discover. But more than anything else, she was afraid, and she was hurt. All because he was overwhelmed with his rage and didn’t know how to find a healthy outlet.

Hera was upset but more than that she was afraid that whatever it was that Todoroki was feeling was too big for him to handle. She knew exactly what true anger looked like. It looked like an angry man with a bottle in his hand, and a mother who was cruel and should have never become one. It looked like the burning intent in Todoroki’s eyes, set on taking out all of his anger and all of his rages on anyone and everyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way.

* * *

Hera took this hurt with her to Tokyo when she went for her demonstration, took it with her when she fell to her knees in exhaustion afterward. She carried it with her when she received a standing ovation from all of the Pros who had evaluated her there. And even with Aizawa even All Might there to support her, Hera soon found herself in an abyss without knowing for certain that Todoroki was still her friend.

With nothing to halt the panic attacks that followed her to the dorm bathrooms, they crashed upon her like thunder. It was all Hera could do to null the sky as the clouds menaced above the entire campus. Hera didn’t remember much of that evening, which was a blur of tears and choked sobs, followed by staring numbly at her dorm room’s ceiling when the unwanted adrenaline finally took its toll.

She didn’t interact with anyone the following day at school unless they addressed her first, because she just didn’t have the energy. And when Todoroki found it within his good graces to spare Hera a worried glance when it started to drizzle, she only returned it with a disappointed shake of her head.

Hera made a mistake. She opened herself up a little and made some friends, and one of them hurt her. The walls she had forced herself to slowly crumble away were soon up again in full force, and this time they might not break apart so easily.

Hera wondered briefly if the anguish she was feeling was normal for being ghosted for the first time, or if her pain was kicked up a notch because of her depression. She hated herself for being stupid enough to let Todoroki get to her so much, especially when she knew it wasn’t actually directed at her. Still, that didn’t excuse his behavior.

Hera really needed to hit something right now, Recovery Girl and Aizawa-sensei be damned. So she pulled on a sports bra and a tank top, uncaring that some of her scars would be visible. She donned a faded pair of sweatpants and her worn out, scuffed up shoes. Hera quickly taped up her hands like so many times before and she was off, heading to the gym in the dorm across the courtyard to seek out the kickboxing bags.

A few students Hera didn’t recognize speckled the gym, occupying different machines and pausing to size her up as she threw her towel and water bottle down onto the mats. If they were leering at her in disgust then Hera wouldn’t have noticed, because she was in the dark kind of headspace where such negativity was filtered out and failed to be processed. At least not until later. She popped in her earbuds, blared some music she didn’t necessarily care for and got to work.

Hera threw a few basic combinations at the bag, sticking with those until her hands acclimated to the impacts of her punches. Eventually, the force of her blows increased in power, and soon Hera had the leather bag swinging backward from its metal chain. As she later opted for more complicated combinations, Hera’s technique abruptly put a cork in the mouths of the jealous onlookers who had scrutinized her and her classmates.

None of them had any idea what her Quirk was, but those of them with less offensive abilities decided that Hera of Class 1-A was definitely one to watch out for.

Twenty minutes went by and Hera was blissfully numb with adrenaline, until a flurry of purple hair materialized at her side, one hand stilling the punching bag and his other stilling herself by her shoulder. It was then that Hera noticed the burning warmth that stemmed from her knuckles, which melted into pain as she slowly recognized the person as Shinsou.

“Sorry,” Hera huffed wearily. “Did you want a turn with the bag?”

But as Hera eyed the room around them, there were plenty of other punching bags open, so Shinsou probably didn’t want hers. She almost laughed, this situation closely mirroring the last time she overdid it in the gym when she first started hanging with Kirishima and Bakugou.

“I’m impressed with your stamina,” Shinsou complimented in a husky baritone, abruptly snapping Hera back to reality. He carefully reached for her wrist and drew it closer to him, and Hera noticed for the first time that her knuckles were bleeding. “But maybe you should learn a little restraint.”

“It's been a long week,” Hera defended passively as if this alone were reason enough.

She pulled away from him and retrieved her water bottle, taking a few gulps before wiping away the bloodstains from the punching bag with her towel. When Hera didn’t expand any further, Shinsou had continued to linger at her side, thinking she appeared unsteady on her feet.

Venturing outside and around the building, Hera found a line of handwashing fountains whose cement looked as new as every other aspect of UA. She ran her bloodied knuckles under a stream of cool water before splashing some onto her face, her hands shaking from more than just the pain. Shinsou remained quietly by her side, waiting patiently for her to collect herself and catch her breath.

“Need something?” Hera asked him as she tried to stem the bleeding with her now reddened towel, a task made difficult when she could only work on one hand at a time. “I swear I’m not trying to be rude. I just really suck at reading people.”

“It would be unheroic of me to turn my back on a fellow student in need,” Shinsou teased sarcastically, coming within arms reach once again to re-examine Hera’s hands in his own, avoiding her blood. He could sense the mistrust radiating off of her in waves, but Hera had yet to push him away or tell Shinsou to beat it, so he proceeded cautiously. “You should probably head over to the infirmary. These look like they might need stitches.”

“Yeah, I probably should,” Hera agreed without any conviction in her voice, shrugging as if the motion could erase her growing unease. She met his eyes quizzically, wondering why Shinsou wasn’t pestering her more about her vague answers. “Thing is, I haven’t exactly been cleared to train yet, so Recovery Girl is the last person I want to see right now. Hopefully,g no one sees this and rats me out,” Hera warned him pointedly, narrowing her eyes at him like Batman does every time someone speaks to him.

Shinsou raised an eyebrow, his eyes searching Hera’s expression but giving in when he found nothing but a girl with her guard up. Instead of arguing with her, he slung his backpack across his chest, unzipping it to produce a first aid kit. Hera realized then that she must actually be out of it to have not noticed him retrieving his bag.

“I wasn’t aware you were on light and limited duty. What happened? Did you lose your temper and get into a fight with a school bully?”

“No, thankfully. Being lethargic is just a side effect of my Quirk. I burn a lot of calories and I’ve been pushing myself a bit too hard training for the Sports Festival,” Hera told him honestly, tactfully not revealing her Quirk, but oddly finding Shinsou’s brisk company a pleasant change from Bakugou’s obscene yelling or Todoroki’s distant silence. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Sounds like a big deal,” Shinsou mumbled in disagreement but dropped the issue just as quickly, disinfecting Hera’s hands with rubbing alcohol that stung like a bitch, before he skillfully wrapped them in gauze. He didn’t bother to ask her what her Quirk was and the quiet that followed was not entirely uncomfortable, so Hera focused on Shinsou’s hands as he treated her. She hadn’t slept well that night, and between the anxiety attacks and the cold sweats that plagued her nights, Hera was grateful for this strange, yet honest boy who didn’t bother her with too many questions she didn’t have the energy to answer.

“Thank you,” Hera said gratefully once Shinsou had finished wrapping her knuckles. “Forgive me for acting so guarded. I have a lot of trust issues. I also apologize for the way Bakugou acted earlier. He can be a real prick sometimes but I promise he isn’t a complete lost cause. Also for my outburst earlier today, I’m-”

Shinsou covered Hera’s mouth with his hand and looked down at her like he had just stepped in someone else’s gum, rubbing the back of his neck with his other as if he were just another teenager that hated confrontation.

“I get it. After what my class and I said today in the hallway you had every right to be offended and stand up for your peers. You don’t owe me of all people an apology.”

Hera couldn’t fight the smile that bloomed beneath his hand, and when Shinsou removed it from her face he found himself smiling, too. The two of them had ended up exchanging numbers, and while this sort of scared Hera it made her heart hurt a little less than it had before.

* * *

By some strange stroke of luck, Aizawa hadn’t questioned the tiny butterfly closure stickers on Hera’s hands the next day or forced her to visit Recovery Girl after class. When Yaoyorozu threw her a few looks but didn’t inquire, Hera promised to fill her in later. Hera pointedly kept Todoroki in the dark since he was within earshot in the seat in front of her. Then Hera’s phone buzzed and her day immediately got a little brighter.

**S- You look like you could use some peace and quiet.** Hera scanned the courtyard through their classroom’s towering windows, finding Hitoshi lounging lazily beneath the shade of a large oak tree.

**H- Stalker. And I could always use some peace and quiet. Was that an invitation? Because it was cryptic as hell.**

**S- It’s school property. Not like I can report you for trespassing.**

**H- Is that any way to speak to a lady?**

**S- Wasn’t aware I was conversing with one.**

“Are you texting a boy?!? Hagakure squealed noisily from behind Hera, giving away her stealth as she read over Hera’s shoulder.

“Oh no,” Hera dismissed coolly with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “This is just my drug dealer. He says he’s all out of cocaine. I guess I’ll just have to splurge on some heroin instead.”

Both Aizawa and every hero in training looked up from their conversations in disbelief, but Hagakure remained unconvinced. Ida was about to give the lecture of a lifetime but then he remembered this thing called ‘sarcasm’ he searched up on the internet once and figured that this was likely Hera using it to get Hagakure off her case. Against his better judgment, Ida was left to sit at attention rigidly in his seat, ready to launch into said lecture if need be.

“Don’t you sass me, young lady!” Hagakure snapped playfully at Hera’s crude joke, unswayed. “You are talking to a boy!”

“Is your proof whatever expression I may or may not have had on my face a moment ago, or because you were straight-up reading my messages over my shoulder?” Hera rebuked as she stood up from her chair and gathered her books. “Well, Detective?”

“Is he someone we know?” the Invisible Girl berated unaffectedly, refusing to fall for Hera’s games.

“A person can speak with a member of the opposite sex platonically,” Hera smirked up at Hagakure to where she felt the girl’s eyes should be. “But I am hurt you think I’m actually that scandalous. Maybe I am talking to a boy. So what?” Hera smiled deviously in response, rolling her eyes as Hagakure squealed like a child. Hera escaped into the sea of students now flooding the halls and headed towards the cafeteria. She messaged Shinsou her reply.

**H - I think I’ll take you up on that. Be right down.**

* * *

Unbeknownst to Hera, she had left several people in her class in a disarray of feelings, namely the ones who had left her in similar turmoils since she had met them. Todoroki could see that Hera was hurting, her eyes missing the usual light that they held whenever they spoke. He hadn’t intended to avoid her, but the rage he felt towards his father and his suspicions of Midoriya’s interactions with All Might had guided his actions.

Todoroki wanted so badly to message Hera and get lost in the sound of her voice as she told him about her day or let off a little steam from a fight with Bakugou, but how could he now when he was partly to blame for her behavior?

Bakugou was close to pummeling Todoroki’s face into the nearest desk if he didn’t fix whatever it was he did to Hera sooner rather than later. It was clear to Bakugou that Hera was going through a lot of shit with her quirk right now, but as much as a sick part of him wanted to comfort her, he had no idea how feelings worked. Bakugou clenched his teeth as he glared at the back of Todoroki’s head as their class also made it over to the cafeteria, hating that literally anything he might say to Hera probably wouldn’t make her feel any better.

Kirishima was in a similar boat, not one filled with Bakugou’s animosity or Todoroki’s internal conflicts, but in his similar want to help Hera. The last time she had really opened up to him had been after her panic attack in Gym Gamma. Kirishima had spoken to Hera since then but their conversations had always felt a bit strained if Bakugou or Todoroki were around. Hera hadn’t texted or called him in days now, and it was almost like something had forced her back into her shell.

Kirishima knew that Bakugou and Todoroki would probably call him out for saying something to them, or tell him that whatever Hera’s problem was wasn’t any of his business. But Hera was his friend, and if she wasn’t comfortable confiding in him with whatever had upset her, then that was reason enough for Kirishima to put the guys in their place.

And he would.

* * *

The last place Hera thought she would be before the Sports Festival was a cat cafe, and a few days ago the last person she ever considered going with was Shinsou. Except probably Bakugou.

The two of them had shared their worries for the chance to make a good debut to the world, but Shinsou sensed that maybe Hera had a lot more than just the Festival on her mind. In conversation, she had shown Shinsou a funny cat meme, and he tactfully asked her if she was allergic to them without raising any suspicion from her. He said he was going for a walk in town to clear his head a bit before heading home for the day, asking Hera if she would care to join him. And then there they were, waltzing into a cat cafe and leaving Hera to gush over the furry creatures in barely hushed squeals.

“I’ve never been to a cat cafe before,” Hera admitted after the bubbly waitress took their drink orders. “There aren’t very many of them in America, and none near my town.”

“Where in America are you from?” Shinsou had asked as a fluffy orange maine coon brushed against his legs beneath the table, demanding his attention.

“Oklahoma,” Hera said dully, her demeanor souring slightly at the mention of home. “On a corn farm in the middle of nowhere.”

“Didn’t take you as a country girl,” Shinsou raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Do you have an accent in English?”

“Didn’t take you for a cat person, Mr. Declaration of War” Hera quipped lightly as she befriended a cat of her own. It was a black and white kitten with two different colored eyes, and her thoughts were unwillingly drawn back to Todoroki. “And yes, I do. Luckily my adoptive father spoke perfect Japanese so I was able to pick up on his speech patterns.”

“How long have you been studying Japanese?” Shinsou had asked curiously as their drinks had arrived. He never would've guessed that she was adopted as well. 

“Only about three years,” Hera announced as she popped her straw into her iced coffee and took a few sips. “I kind of cheated though.”

“Cheated?” Shinsou asked, narrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “My adoptive father has a language Quirk,” Hera explained. “It allows him to speak any language once he hears it, and if he touches you then you can speak a language of your choice. It’s permanent, too. He initially gave it to me because I was a total anime nerd and hated waiting for subtitles to come out in English. I still had to study how to read and write in Japanese though. I never thought I’d make it into UA and move to Japan to live in the dorms.”

“I didn’t realize there were Quirks like that,” Shinsou mused as his cat abruptly decided it had enough of him and ran off. “Good thing it worked out for you. Knowing two languages will certainly benefit you in the future.”

“I speak four, actually,” Hera admitted sheepishly, not wanting to sound as if she were bragging.

“Wait seriously?” Shinsou asked in disbelief, for the first time really taking in Hera’s almond-shaped eyes and warm olive skin. His eyes fell to the scars that branched across her arms but Shinsou said nothing of them.

“My mother was Italian and my father was Hispanic,” Hera nodded. “I never studied how to read and write in those languages though, so most of what I know is just the slang they used to spout around the house. I try not to use them too often because I’m still unfamiliar with how to speak them formally, and I don’t want to sound rude when I do.”

“They were?” Shinsou asked tentatively, Hera’s referral to her parents in the past tense not going unnoticed by him. Hera’s hand stilled the feathered stick she was teasing her kitten with.

“...They died in an accident a few years ago,” was all she was able to make out. “I was adopted by our neighbor, Samuel.” Realizing that this was a sensitive topic for her, Shinsou changed the subject to something lighter.

“So you can curse someone out in four different languages?” he smirked playfully, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t decide if that’s convenient or if you have too much power.”

“Only when I feel like revealing my inner delinquent to the world,” Hera stuck her tongue out at him childishly, before looking over Shinsou’s shoulder, her jaw dropping. “Oh my god is that Aizawa-sensei and Present Mic?!” she whispered harshly as their teachers came into view, and Shinsou visibly cringed when he confirmed it for himself.

“Let’s just pray they don’t notice-” Shinsou kept his voice low but his eyes widened in horror as Hera gleefully waved the two over.

“WHOA!” Present Mic had boomed, earning him a hard smack to the head from Aizawa for scaring the cats. “Is this a budding romance I see before me?!” he wiggled his eyes suggestively.

“You wish,” Shinsou muttered sourly, crossing his arms and looking like he wanted to be literally anywhere else. Hera turned to Aizawa.

“I have divorced Todoroki-kun and have decided to run away with Shinsou-san insead,” Hera looked him straight in the eyes, before elaborating to said purple haired boy who could only stare at her in awe. “Todoroki-kun carried me to the nurses office the other day. All Might walked into the room as we were leaving and I flat out said we’d eloped. I knew our class would never let us hear the end of it so I tried to make the most out of it.”

“Ah,” Shinsou grunted in understanding. “I didn’t realize you were so bold.”

“I try,” Hera shrugged, waiting for Aizawa to chew her out for taking it easy before the Sports Festival, even if she had technically been ordered to do so. When he didn't she turned to Present Mic and asked, “Do you guys come here often?”

“YEAH! Shouta here absolutely loves all of the-” Present Mic began before receiving a hard elbow to the ribs from Aizawa.

“I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” Aizawa had wondered, giving in to his fate and practically collapsing into the seat at the table beside their own. Shinsou rested his smug face in the palm of his hand as he continued to play with his cat, trying like hell to look indifferent to the love it was giving him.

“I found this one beating the Hell out of a punching bag the other day like she was out to murder it,” Shinsou elaborated, sharing a look with Hera’s homeroom teacher that she couldn’t quite decipher. In response, Hera hid her hands under the table.

“I see,” Aizawa regarded Hera sternly, but looking at Shinsou like he was gathering data to use against him later. The Hero kept watching Hera in case she attempted to take any photos of her homeroom teacher at a cat cafe, relaxing somewhat when his student made no such efforts.

“He patched up my hands and I decided he wasn’t just talking to me to figure out what my Quirk was before the Sports Festival,” Hera admitted guiltily. “We exchanged contact info and talked some smack about our classmates, ate lunch together the other day because Bakugou was pissi- annoying the heck out of me.”

“She is surprisingly cynical,” Shinsou continued knowingly, repressing a smile at the knowledge that he felt an odd aura of camaraderie with his similar sense of humor.

“Ah, young love!” Present Mic teased in a terrible French accent, upset that every cat in the cafe was avoiding him due to the obscene volume of his voice. Hera only looked at Shinsou and rolled her eyes, indulging Present Mic if only to save her breath. The four of them split off into their own conversations for a while, and soon they were just four acquaintances in a coffee shop with cats, instead of Heroes or teachers or clumsy students. Before Hera knew it an hour had come and gone, her alarm chiming to remind her of the time.

“I should get going. The train back to campus leaves in a few and the next one doesn’t arrive until after curfew,” Hera announced as she gave her kitten one last head scratch and packed up her things, leaving the money for her drink and tip for the waitress on the table.

“It’s gonna be dark soon. I’ll go with you,” Shinsou offered before turning to Aizawa. “I’ll meet you both back home.”

“Back home?” Hera wondered, confirming her suspicions that the two men might actually be a couple. “Do you live with them?”

“It’s a long story,” Shinsou confirmed. Hera looked at him kindly, waving goodbye to her teachers as they departed.

“It’s a long train ride,” Hera reminded him with a smile that could make any person’s heart skip a beat because it did a number on Shinsou's. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”


	19. Painfully Existing

Author's Note: I apoligize for the later than usual update. Haven't had a lot going on but I've been kind of depressed lately and sometimes its hard to force out a chapter, no matter how much I wanted to. I'd have all of these ideas on my head but once I sat down it was like hitting a wall. Already started on the next chapter so I'm feeling pretty confident that my next update won't take nearly as long as this one did. Fingers crossed!

I wasn't feeling my best I feel like this chapter has suffered because of it. I winded up focusing on Hera more than I wanted too so I tried to squeeze out some more character interactions. My biggest fear was that this story was heading in a more two dimensional, cookie cutter route, but I try my best to make Hera as relatable a character as possible. Sure, she's extremely overpowered at times, but I try to counteract this with the fact that her Quirk takes such a heavy toll on her. She's just an abused girl who was robbed of a lot of her childhood and forced to grow up early. Hera is loyal and awkward, but she suffers from a lot of the same stresses and anxieties that I know at least I can relate to, so I hope at least some of you guys are enjoying what I've done with her.

Comments and criticism are plenty welcome, just be nice because I'm a big sensitive baby xD Take care everyone!

* * *

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Nineteen

* * *

The dreaded morning of the Sports Festival had finally reared its ugly head, and Hera’s stomach was in knots. She had spent her night tossing and turning, and the few hours of sleep she had managed to get had all ended the same way. She would wake up from one of her familiar nightmares in a cold sweat, heart racing in a panic in fear she had overslept. Hopefully, her day wouldn’t deteriorate from there.

Hera loathed the fact that they would be performing in their gym uniforms rather than their Hero costumes. She understood that the school was only doing this to level out the playing field as much as possible due to the fact that many had modifyers on their Hero suits that either amplified their Quirks or made them safer to use. Still, this did nothing to soothe Hera’s nerves, knowing that the scars on her arms would be on full display to the entire world.

At 7am Hera was greeted with a good luck text from Shinsou, which had been surprising since they were soon to become rivals.

 **‘If it makes you feel any comfort, just know that there are other students at least as stressed out as you,’** Shinsou had texted her. **‘If you can fight as well as you can destroy a punching bag then I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.’**

 **‘Thanks, Shin,’** Hera texted as she pushed open the heavy doors to her dorm and made her way across the campus. **‘I’m panicking more about my scars being out on display, and about the strong possibility that my Quirk might be too much to safely control. Less about my performance, but I guess that just makes me sound kinda full of it haha.’**

 **‘I can’t really relate. My Quirk can be annoyingly underwhelming if I don’t use it properly,'** Shinsou began as Hera arrived at the cafeteria. **‘Shin huh?’** he added as an afterthought, and Hera hadn’t even realized that she had texted that.

 **‘Sorry uh...that just sort of slipped out...of my fingers?’** Hera texted him furiously through blurry, still half asleep but hoping that she hadn’t insulted him. **‘I do that with everyone’s names when I start to feel more comfortable around them. Hopefully by the end of today we’re still friends ^.^’**

 **‘Guess that means I gotta come up with a name for you,’** was all Hera got out of him before she put her phone away to grab some food, heart racing at the implications of Shinsou giving her a nickname of all people. She just prayed that whatever he came up with would be nicer than Bakugou’s titles.

The cafeteria was crazy busy for a typical Saturday morning rush, but Hera found a strange comfort in the noise and the chaos. The crowd ranged from eager students hyped up for a free meal before the Festival to actual Pro Heroes wandering about the perimeter for security. Some were more uptight while others were still sipping wearily at their morning coffee.

She was shocked to see that Midoriya hadn’t rolled up, especially with the presence of so many Pros. Hera didn’t know many Japanese Heroes outside of the top twenty or so, and Hera suddenly wished that Midoriya was here to clue her in. She laughed a bit to herself at the thought of getting him an autograph from one of them. Surely he would appreciate one from literally any of them. Midoriya would go ballistic.

Her food acquired, Hera scanned the room for a vacant seat, spotting Uraraka off to the side eating by herself. Enthused to see an amiable tablemate option, Hera came up behind her peer and lightly tapped her on the shoulder to announce herself with a wave. Apparently, Uraraka had been in want of a companion as desperately as Hera had, and she welcomed her with enough bubbly energy to power the damn sun. They talked about this and that, expressing their shared nervousness for whatever the day might bring them.

“So is it true, Hera-chan?” Uraraka had asked through a mouthful of rice. “Were you really talking to a boy the other day?” But then Uraraka threw up her hands in defense. “I’m not asking who or anything! I swear!”

Hera smiled sweetly as she sipped at her coffee in a way that looked playfully suggestive. “I was actually,” Hera told her openly. “To be honest I’ve been kind of depressed over Todoroki-kun lately, so it was nice talking to someone different for a change. He’s a Gen Ed student I met in the cafeteria a few days ago, and then I ran into him a second time over in one of the dorm gyms. We winded up talking for a while and found out that we have a lot in common. We even exchanged numbers.”

“Whoa, Hera-chan! You’re so grown up about things!” Uraraka said in surprise, taking in Hera with wide eyes as if really seeing her for the first time. “But are you sure it’s a good idea to talk about to other students right before the Sports Festival?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t mention anything to him about any of our Quirks, and he never asked either,” Hera assured her. “It’s nothing romantic, though.”

“Nothing romantic you say?” rumbled the smooth voice of none other than Shinsou himself, and Hera internally cursed at her terrible luck. He took a seat beside Hera without waiting for an invitation. “But what about the wedding?” he teased easily and Uraraka’s jaw dropped.

Hera was pointedly thoughtful for a moment as she remembered their conversation back at the cat cafe. “Perhaps we should postpone it for now,” Hera jested, nudging Shinsou with her elbow and Uraraka nearly choked. “I’m still gathering my bridesmaids. Plus we are still students and all. Maybe we should focus on our studies for now.”

She wanted to wink at him, but then the world would know that she can’t actually wink. Hera didn’t think that she was ready for that.

“You really are something else,” Shinsou smirked, his eyes wide with amusement. Any other girl would have turned beet red, but Hera rolled with the punches like thunder. He uncapped his own coffee to cool it before taking a swig.

“I try,” Hera rolled her eyes again.

She spotted Kirishima a few tables over and an idea popped into her head. Pulling out her phone, Hera zoomed in with her camera, snapping a picture of his spiky red hair rising up above the crowd of people and nearly died of laughter. She showed it to the others before hitting send.

“And now we wait,” Hera said evilly.

The three of them watched as Kirishima scanned the crowd to find her, his excited expression melting into shock when he saw Shinsou. But he bounded over to them with a smile anyway, offering Shinsou a polite if not wary nod before taking a seat next to Uraraka. He was understandably hesitant but civil when he introduced himself to Shinsou who did the same, but the moment of awkwardness didn’t last for long.

Hera was good at keeping up a conversation, and not one of them felt like they were an outcast fraternizing with the enemy. With Hera there, they were just students having breakfast together, and Shinsou felt a pit in his stomach. Would they still accept him once they knew about his Quirk? Kirishima paused when he noticed the dark circles under Hera’s eyes, though they were nothing compared to Shinsou’s.

“Did you get enough sleep last night?” Kirishima had asked Hera in concern, tactfully not calling her out based on her appearance alone.

“I tried, but I only got about four hours...well, accumulatively,” Hera laid her head on the table with a groan.

“Oh no!” Uraraka exclaimed worriedly. “That’s nowhere near enough, Hera-chan! Maybe you should try to sneak in a few naps in between the events?”

“A UA student taking naps during the Sports Festival,” Hera scoffed indignantly, head still on the table in exhausted defeat. “Think Aizawa-sensei will let me borrow his sleeping bag?”

“Do you usually have trouble sleeping?” Shinsou wondered.

“Sometimes if I’m really stressed out, but I can usually function enough with about six hours on a better night,” Hera admitted, taking in the deep bruises beneath Shinsou’s eyes as well. “How much sleep did _you_ get?”

Shinsou laughed darkly, but he didn’t appear to be insulted. “My father’s Quirk is Insomnia,” he explained. “As the name suggests: he never sleeps.”

“Whoa, I didn’t know that there were Quirks like that,” Kirishima mused. “I’d go crazy! Like what would I do in my downtime?”

“I don’t know, maybe study more?” Hera berated lightly, earning her an exaggerated half glare from Kirishima as a result.

“My Quirk is unrelated to my father’s,” Shinsou continued, enjoying their childish charade. “However, I can still function on a lot less sleep than most people.”

“...So how much sleep _do_ you usually get?” Uraraka ventured tentatively, as if in fear of angering a sleeping bear. A friendly breakfast with Shinsou and her classmates was the last thing she was expecting when she woke up this morning.

“A few hours here and there...every few days or so,” Shinsou confided indifferently, rubbing at the back of his neck. The three of them just gaped at him like he had a second head.

“How the hell are you not dead?!” Hera stared at Shinsou in awe as if he’d collapse at any moment, feeling a similar weariness at the recesses of her own mind as they threatened to creep in on her. Shinsou looked down at Hera beside him, still not used to her short stature, and he was amused by her concern for him.

“The doctors were worried at first for sure,” he told them with another shrug, looking indifferent. “They thought I was inheriting my father’s Quirk. Apparently, it’s common for children to experience phantom symptoms similar to their parent’s Quirks without actually inheriting them. Once they figured that out, the doctors said I might just require less sleep than other people.”

“Well if your doctor gave you the all-clear and you feel alright then it should be okay?” Kirishima offered weakly.

Shinsou blinked at him in surprise. “You are the first person to agree with me on this,” he admitted after a moment.

The four of them continued to chat in a fragile peace for the next half hour or so until the first bell sent them their separate ways. Drowsily, Hera dragged herself to her feet, dramatically leaning on Uraraka the entire way to homeroom. Kirishima trailed close behind them, snagging Hera’s bag in fear it would take her down with it. He bid Shinsou farewell and wished him good luck in the Festival. And suddenly Kirishima Eijiro was a little lower on his agenda, even if he was in Class 1-A.

* * *

Hera knew that it was only a matter of time before her nerves started to get the better of her. Everything had been going so smoothly that morning, but then all of that everything soon went to shit. Their class had been directed to the locker rooms to change into their infamous tracksuits before they were funneled into a waiting room several floors beneath the Arena. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, and there was nothing any of them could do but wait until their teachers summoned them to the stadium with the rest of the student body.

Todoroki had the gall to walk right up to Midoriya and straight up announce that he was in every way a better fighter than him. Hera glared at the Half n’ Half teen before her, wishing that she could find it within herself to give her friend the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, she couldn’t. But before Hera lost her temper and went off on Todoroki, Midoriya showed a little backbone. He acknowledged that his accuser may in fact be the better fighter, but not to count himself out just yet.

Kirishima tried to play mediator, but Todoroki didn’t even have enough basic respect to stick around and listen. Kirishima spared one look at Hera, clenching his fists at his side as her face fell. He followed Todoroki out into the hallway, calling out to his classmate as he continued to stalk away.

“Hey man, I’m not here to pretend like I know what you’re going through right now but we’re all stressed about today,” Kirishima told him flat out. “So don’t go throwing your attitude around and making enemies when you don’t need to.”

“Did you really follow me out here just to give me a reality check?” Todoroki checked shortly.

“No, I didn’t,” Kirishima took a foreboding step into Todoroki’s personal space. “I came here to tell you to apologize to Hera. You’ve been hardcore avoiding her all week and she’s obviously upset. Maybe try acting like an adult and don’t give people the silent treatment just to go off on them later?”

Todoroki fixed Kirishima with a glare of his own, and Kirishima swore the temperature of the room dropped a little, but his determination didn’t waver.

“When did you two become so close?” Todoroki seethed, not wanting the pain he felt to show on his face, but he was too blinded by his own rage to identify what he was feeling as jealousy.

“I don’t know, maybe it was after you shut her out? Probably even before that?” Kirishima offered dryly. “Hera’s a strong fighter, but she’s still human. I can only imagine how she’s been coping with you dipping out on her.”

“Coping?” Todoroki asked in confusion, and Kirishima thought he sensed a crack in his facade. “Ask her yourself,” Kirishima continued, turning his back on Todoroki to return to the waiting room. “I didn’t come out here to talk about Hera behind her back.”

“...If this is about her panic attacks,” Todoroki lowered his voice so they wouldn’t be overheard, “then I am aware.”

“Have you seen them?” Kirishima challenged flatly, his face steel.

“Have you?” Todoroki wondered, not knowing why he felt like he had to know. Kirishima sent him a look that bordered on hostility.

“You gave her one,” was all Kirishima supplied, leaving Todoroki in the hall so that he could return to his seat at Hera’s side in the waiting room. Todoroki felt like he was drowning. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Was this what Hera was feeling right now? Is that why she kept throwing him all of those longing looks?

Todoroki took pause then, trying to remember the last time he had seen one of those looks, his hopes falling even further when he couldn't pinpoint when or why they had stopped.

An announcement sounded overhead. Present Mic’s booming voice instructed the students to assemble before the podium in the center of the Arena. A few students from another class standing within earshot of Hera made the mistake of talking shit about her friends. When their eyes met she greeted them with a wicked grin and a taunting wave, and absolutely nothing about their exchange had been friendly. Hera mentally added them to her shit list like she was considering exactly what to cook for dinner.

With Bakugou’s headstrong yet confident announcement of his inevitable win, the Sports Festival had officially begun.

The first trial at hand was an obstacle course littered with traps. Anything goes so long as you come out on top. Looks were exchanged as students all around her squared up, and Hera found herself needing a breath to calm her nerves. Time seemed to slow down, and in her focused state she failed to notice the worried glances thrown her way. The sound of a blank gun echoed throughout the stadium, and every student in sight with some sense took off running.

Except Hera.

“What’s this I see?! Miss Hera Gale of Class 1-A has yet to move! Could she be plotting something or is she just plain dumb??” Present Mic’s voice crashed down from the sky. She ignored the confused looks and Mic’s cheesy commentary as every citizen in the stadium and the world wondered just what in the hell she was trying to pull, but Hera kept her eyes forward.

Chaos erupted around her as students ranging from first to third years summoned their Quirks in an effort to get ahead of the game, but Hera noticed the first obstacle because of her tactical hesitation. The tunnel exiting the Arena was soon a clogged mass of students, and Hera marveled at her classmates in 1-A as they dominated the rest, launching themselves headfirst over the others and unblinkingly towards the next challenge.

Hera inhaled, feeling the natural breeze of the sky brush gently against her skin before she exhaled. She allowed the familiar tingling in her bones to summon forth a fog that enveloped the entire tunnel, one so thick the students couldn’t see one hand in front of themselves.

Breaking into a sprint, Hera launched her body into the air as she came out of a series of front cartwheels. She landed roughly on the shoulders of two Class 1-C students who she didn’t care to know. Hera propelled herself across the backs of students like stepping stones in a garden. She dodged the wreckage of the robots collapsing upon their heads due to Bakugou and Todoroki, tumbling off of the broad shoulders of one final student before breaking into a sprint. Hera released her Quirk to conserve some energy as she headed for the next obstacle, doubting that the fog would dissipate immediately.

In less than two minutes she had dominated the competition and climbed the ranks from last place to 18th, and Hera was just getting started. Above her, the announcers were giving the audience a play by play, and so far Hera had only given them positive things to say.

“Another incredible play by a student of Class 1-A! It’s no wonder Miss Gale became UA’s first Recommendation Student from America!” Present Mic exclaimed, before turning to Aizawa. “Just what have you been feeding them, Eraserhead?! Or not feeding them, she actually looks pretty dang skinny!”

“What Miss Gale accomplished was no easy feat,” Aizawa continued, ignoring Mic’s stupid comments. “She not only blinded her opponents and used them as terrain, but Miss Gale also had to remember where each of them were located. She displayed an incredible sense of environmental awareness, polished agility, and sharp memory. Take note, this is a student aiming for the top.”

Had Hera actually been listening to the announcements then she probably would’ve cried. While Aizawa and Mic turned their attentions back to the students still exiting the tunnel and then to those in front, Hera reached her next obstacle. A canyon with towering pillars connected only with ropes. She paused at the edge of the steep cliffs and debated her options.

Hera knew she could just use the ropes to conserve her energy like the students with less offensive Quirks. She knew it was probably smart to conserve her energy for now and not to reveal her cards all at once, It would cost her time and perhaps several places in the rankings, but this was something Hera knew she could bounce back from. She could wait for the other students and see how they approached the terrain themselves, copy them to the best of her ability. Or…

Hera risked a glance behind her and took in the entire student body hot on her heels. Taking a chance, Hera made her decision. She used her wind to blast herself across the canyon, and Hera made a mental note to train more in aerial combat with Bakugou and Uraraka. She was unable to control her speed or rate of descent, but after coming down hard onto the rocky ground and losing a good bit of her skin in the process, the eagle had landed.

Feeling a smidge more comfortable now that she was at least in 7th place, Hera shook off the bruises and plowed forward, and made an attempt to tune into Mic’s shitty commentary. She gathered that the third challenge was a minefield and that Todoroki and Bakugou had already reached it.

When Hera arrived with a handful of other students she spotted Midoriya, who was apparently trying to analyze the situation as well, if his muttering was anything to go by. Whatever he was planning, Hera knew she wanted to be out of his way.

Hera debated launching herself across the entire minefield with one of her updrafts, but she knew that her next landing would be as much of a gamble as her last. She made it halfway across the minefield when all hell broke loose around her, and the sight of Midoriya with a piece of metal leaping onto a bunch of bombs to set off others forced Hera to use her winds anyway.

Several contusions and more missing skin later, Hera was convinced she was mildly going into shock, finishing the race in 5th place behind Ida in 4th, Todoroki in 3rd, Bakubro in 2nd, and Sir Mutters A Lot in 1st. The crowd went wild as her classmates dominated the rankings, above even the second and third years. Suddenly, Hera became overwhelmed with a powerful sense of dysphoria. This was really happening, she was really here as a student of UA, and she had somehow come in 5th place in the first test.

Holy shit.

The stadium cameras focused in on Midoriya first, lingering on him for a well-deserved while before flickering down the rankings one by one. When they reached her, Hera’s throat closed up in a giddy combination of fear and adrenaline, and the wounds she was positive she should really be feeling right now...she wasn’t? She was covered in dirt and blood from a few minor cuts and abrasions, her gym uniform torn in the several spaces where she was missing skin, but none of it was serious. The cameras gave her one last once over before moving onto the other students, the scars on her arms visible and her side-shave making her look like a total badass.

Hera only wished she could feel as cool as she looked.

* * *

The cavalry battle was an absolute shit show.

In the end, Hera had winded up with Asui, Shoji, and Mineta of all fucking people. No one else had approached her, and that was probably a combination of how thoroughly she had duped them all in the obstacle course, as well as how beat up she looked. Hera was lucky to have ended up with anyone, even more so to have passed the trial. Hera was once again reminded what a terrible person she was in comparison, and they made her want to be better. The bastards were all starting to grow on her.

Well, except Mineta. That thing was just a bastard.

Their cavalry team hadn’t been greedy, switching to defence the second the four of them had collected enough headbands to assure their slots in the next phase. They relied heavily on Hera and regrettably Mineta for defense. Shoji was their extra eyes and ears, and Asui used her tongue to snatch headbands. If anyone tried to come close to them or go after Asui’s tongue, Hera showed no mercy. She would either blow them away or they would be trapped by Mineta’s...hairy balls.

Hera visibly cringed at the memory.

Their team had winded up in 4th place, and Hera thanked them all profusely for allowing her to team up with her in the first place. She pointedly ignored Mineta’s Victory Hug request and roughly elbowed him in the nose when the cameras weren’t looking.

Now that the cavalry battle had come and gone, the time for playing nice was over. Hera wished she could have teamed up with Todoroki or even Shinsou, but she supposed it couldn’t be helped. They hadn’t approached her, so Hera figured that she wasn’t wanted. Shinsou was a General Education student trying to transfer into the Hero Course, so of course he wouldn’t offer Hera his aid when she was standing in his way. Bakugou had been quick to find enough people, and even Midoriya, and Todoroki...didn’t seem to need her either.

* * *

Hera’s first one-on-one fight had occurred right after Bakugou and Uraraka’s battle. The crowd had been sickening, quick to write off Uraraka’s incredible achievements in combat because Bakugou had the nerve to come at her without even a shred of mercy. Hera understood that the Hero world was dominated mostly by men, but this was the first time she had personally witnessed such a double standard. It was a tough pill to swallow knowing that as a woman she, too, would have to bust her ass twice as hard as her male counterparts for even the chance at recognition.

It was fucked.

And then Hera’s name flashed across the screen, her opponent the very girl from the hallway and in the crowd at the opening ceremony who had talked shit about her classmates. The cocky bitch with snakes for hair who seemed Hell bent that she would have fared just as well as they had during the Villain attack, if not better by her confident tone of voice.

A switch seemed to flip in Hera as her adversary took to the stage, and she wondered if this anger was not unlike the turmoil Todoroki was currently experiencing, albeit for different reasons. Hera cracked her neck as the crowd continued to murmur about the last match, and she was determined to give them something else to chew on.

“A shame about your little friend,” the girl shrugged uncaringly, and Hera clenched her jaw. “But at least she made that Bakugou guy look better.”

Hera shook her head and covered her face, running her fingers through her hair in silence for a moment before an eerie laugh that bordered on hysteria bubbled out of her. It was only after her slow claps of mock applause had ceased that Hera was finally able to train her eyes back onto her opponent. Medusa, because of course that would be her name.

“Bakugou acknowledged Uraraka as an equal,” Hera began, speaking up so that the entire stadium could hear. “Uraraka-san may have lost, but at least now she knows where she stands and what to work on in terms of combat. We’re both girls. Do you think a Villain is going to go easy on us?” Hera shook her head in disbelief. “Because if you do then you’re even dumber than I thought.”

“W-Who do you think you are?!” was all Medusa was able to come up with, her snakes hissing with her own irritation. “You better pray that your Quirk can make up for that mouth!”

“Oh, I doubt I’ll be needing it,” Hera shrugged back. “Especially if your combat is any bit as weak as your personality.”

“Ooooh!! Shots fired!” Present Mic commented from above them.

“Can we get on with it already?” Eraserhead begged Midnight, deadpanning. She promptly began the match.

Hera debated another smokescreen but decided ultimately to show off her confidence when it came to close range conflict - or ending them. Snakes for brains was fast, but she clearly relied too much upon her hair. Get in close with sloppy ass footwork, let the venom from her snakes do the rest? Really? It was sad that someone so lazy had managed to last even longer than Shinsou had. Just which idiot was responsible for letting her into UA?

Hera sighed, dodging the girl’s snakes and hooking a foot around her leg, knocking Medusa off balance. Hera kneed Medusa roughly in the stomach, pinning her to the ground with her legs and hand, while Hera’s other hand fisted her snakes harmlessly out of range, rendering their venom useless.

Hera held up a finger in thought, making a show of it while she managed to keep Madusa pinned with one arm and her strong legs.

“Let’s play a game,” Hera began as Medusa struggled helplessly beneath her iron grip, the wind kicked right out of her lungs, but Hera’s tone was anything but playful. “Here, I’ll be the Villain.”

She released her hold on Medusa, letting the girl get her bearings while Hera circled her like a predator toying with its food.

“Pretend that I just committed an armed robbery at a bank. Hostages, the whole shebang,” Hera continued as Medusa lunged at her desperately, failing to land even a single blow or bite. Hera returned the girl’s efforts with a hard fist to the nose, but tactfully not knocking Medusa out.

“You, the selfless Hero, attempt to apprehend me. Now,” Hera pinned the girl again, yanking hard on one of the snakes in her hair, “I have just killed several people only moments ago during my escape. I am a sociopath with no regard for human life, and you are the only thing standing in between spending the rest of my life behind bars or freedom. Do you think that someone like that will hesitate to kill you? Or injure you and take you back to their hideout to torture you **_because you’re a woman?_** ”

Medusa was sobbing now, but it was less in fear and more in the sad truth to Hera’s words as they brought a sick reality to life. She swung at her in a blind rage, refusing to accept her defeat in grace and refusing to surrender. Hera eyed the girl up and down, taking in her physique, and calculating her weight.

“We look like we’re about the same size,” Hera mused absentmindedly as she stalked towards Medusa again. “How much can you bench?”

“I don’t,” Medusa spat back as blood poured down her nose from her face. “Why the hell should that matter?” Medusa tried to feint a move at Hera’s legs but Hera had been faster, an embodiment of power honed through practice.

In half a second Hera had thrown the girl back onto her stomach, holding her down with her knee as she bound Medusa’s hands and legs with her own snakes. No one could have predicted what happened next. In one powerful motion of bent knees and upper body strength, Hera deadlifted Medusa over her head and onto her shoulders. Medusa screamed futilely as Hera calmly carried her over to the nearest white line, swiftly depositing her opponent onto the other side with little effort.

“You should consider starting,” Hera continued, reaching down to pat Medusa on the head condescendingly. “It might just save your life one day to be stronger than you look.”

The crowd hesitated to cheer for a solid few seconds after Hera was crowned the victor as if she had opened their eyes to their own naivety and they didn’t like what they saw. The fight itself had been almost painful to watch, like an adult holding a hyperactive child at arm's length by the head because of the sheer difference in strength.

Still, the audience cheered for her, or maybe everyone was just grateful the match was finally over. Midnight had been the one who untied Medusa from her own snakes, and Hera had retreated back down the dark tunnel that led to 1-A’s waiting room, feeling guilty and more like the Villain in her little scenario than she’d like to admit.

* * *

“I had no idea Hera could be so...intense,” Kaminari admitted to his classmates in the stands, all of them present having already been defeated. “I mean we all saw how she dealt with those Villains back at the USJ but…”

“I’m glad that Hera stood up for me,” Uraraka defended, looking bruised and no doubt sore from her match with Bakugou. “She isn’t afraid to stand up to people when they’re in the wrong, or to defend her friends. I just hope that her actions don’t come across to other Heroes as selfish when she was trying to do the opposite.”

“...It almost feels as if Hera is holding us all at arm’s length,” Yaoyorozu added thoughtfully. “Like she’s afraid to let us see who she really is because she’s afraid of what we’ll see.”

Sero regarded Yaoyorozu carefully. “You say that like you know something. _Is_ there another side to Hera?”

Yaoyorozu was tactfully quiet, her gaze falling as she slowly shook her head in denial. “I am not willing to reveal anything about Hera unless she is willing to share.”

“Well now I just wanna know even more,” Kaminari stated honestly, but his eyes didn’t contain their usual shine of mischief.

Kirishima locked eyes with Sero and Kaminari, shooting them a warning glare to drop the issue with a discrete shake of his head.

“So who do you guys think is gonna win this thing?” he diverted the topic. “My money is on Bakugou!”

And then Uraraka blushingly defended Midoriya while the others tossed around their own bets and reasonings, and all Kirishima could think about was where Hera was right now. He was about to get up and look for her when the next match began, and Kirishima ultimately decided that Hera might just need some time to herself.

What they didn’t know was that Hera was currently having a standoff with Medusa in the hallway beneath the Arena. Snakes hadn’t been stupid enough to try and fight Hera while they had a moment alone unsupervised, but she had a lot of lingering emotions after their fight.

“I won’t tell anyone if you want to land a hit on me,” Hera offered seriously. “Just don’t hit me in the face if you don’t wanna be found out. After using you as an example like that, I’d wanna hit me, too.”

“Where’s the satisfaction in that?!” Medusa had snapped at her. “The next time we meet I don’t wanna land a hit on you because you let me! I wanna do it because you couldn’t stop me!”

“Ah, so you now have this cheesy anime resolve ‘to get stronger’,” Hera teased knowingly, cracking a grin.

“Don’t fucking tell me I was beaten by some weeb,” Medusa glared at her through a deadpan expression.

Hera shrugged lightheartedly, before smugly adding, “And I didn’t even need to use my Quirk.” And then Medusa was chasing Hera down the hallway with the intent to kill, but even as Hera ran for her life she felt an odd sense of giddiness. In some weird way or another, Hera felt like she had made a friend rather than an enemy.

Well, sort of.

* * *

Before she knew it Hera was back in the limelight and taking center stage, standing before her next adversary who happened to be none other than the blond guy in the hallway. Her visage crumbling from within, Hera painted a smug grin onto her face with enough skill to impress Picasso himself. It fooled the crowd, and apparently this Monoma kid, too.

“I suppose I owe you an apology,” Hera mocked as they squared up on either side of Midnight. “You ever iron out that necktie of yours?”

Monoma had laughed almost as hysterically as Hera had, but this seemed far more within this guy’s character. “I can’t wait to mop the floor with you,” he quipped back. “I don’t care if you’re a girl.”

“Well, at least a bit of what I said during my last fight reached someone,” Hera commended sarcastically.

Midnight raised her leather whip, and soon the fun began. Hera was aware that Monoma had a copying Quirk, but as to its extent and whatever abilities he currently had within his arsenal, she was at a loss. Fireballs were apparently one of them, but such attacks were easily deflected with her wind. The vines had been annoying to be sure, but to Monoma’s dismay, Hera was easily able to cut through them with a little concentration and few slices wind.

Monoma glared at Hera, incredulous, her hands in her pockets the entire time.

“I don’t need to move my body to summon my Quirk,” Hera informed him as she continued to dodge his vines, looking bored but remaining alert. “You’ll have to do more than just restrain me.”

“Thanks for the advice,” A foreboding smile peeled Monoma’s face into a sickly grin that looked more like a grimace.

He went still, and the sky darkened as clouds gathered overhead, blocking out the light of the sun. It took Hera a few seconds too long to realize that Monoma was in fact doing this himself and that she wasn’t losing control of her Quirk again.

Hera thought of how easily she destroyed Ground Beta during their first week of school, and all at once the memory of grabbing Monoma’s collar came crashing back to her. Had she touched his skin, too? Or had their proximity been more than enough for him? Hera thought of all of the innocent people seated excitedly in the stands. None of them had any idea as to how much danger they were in, and she instantly went on the defensive. This was no longer just a match - if Hera didn’t take Monoma down right here and now people could actually die.

There was no way he’d believe her if she tried to convince him to surrender, not when Monoma had her on the ropes.

A bolt of lightning coming down upon her head soon interrupted her thoughts, and Hera used her winds to vault her body off of the ground and away from the bolt as it deafened the stadium. The force of the blow had sent Monoma tumbling to the ground, his balance thrown off by his own lightning. Hera didn’t need to look up to the stands to know that the power of the monitors had been lost, backup generators kicking on immediately to resume the feed. Around them people started yelling, young children wailing in fear as their ears rang from the incredible volume of the impact.

In the announcer’s box, Aizawa was desperately attempting to get in touch with Midnight to end the match. Present Mic could have easily screamed down the message, but he had been thrown from his chair when the lightning had blown out the windows, knocking him unconscious. Aizawa knew he needed to get down there and end this match before it got any further out of hand, but he couldn’t leave Mic behind until the deep cuts on his face had been tended to.

Heroes stationed about the Arena looked to one another uneasily, wondering if they should call the match. Just how could they protect the crowd from something as instant as lightning? Not even All Might himself could have beaten it, and this knowledge made the blood of every Hero present run cold.

When Monoma still didn’t take the hint and motioned to summon a second bolt of lightning, Hera had predicted where the bolt would fall and intercepted it with one of her own before it had impacted the stands. She summoned her fog to blind him, praying that Monoma wasn’t stupid enough to use it if he couldn’t even see his target, and Hera was determined to be on him before he figured out how to use the wind aspect of her Quirk.

Even if Aizawa got down there and tried to cut off one of their Quirks, as well as any lingering weather Hera failed to disperse, he could only use his ability on one person at a time. None of this would matter, however, unless Aizawa could lay eyes on either of them, namely Monoma. With the fog cutting off all visibility his chances were shit to none.

A powerful vine swiped blindly through the haze, backfiring Hera’s screen of vapor with a bone-breaking hit to her ribs. The force of the blow sent her to the ground, but the blood she was spitting out had been from biting her tongue when it had sent her flying.

“Are you fucking insane?!” Hera screamed angrily, not giving a shit if she further blew her position as she narrowly dodged another onslaught of angry vines, a few swiping at her face and marring it badly. “Is coming out on top really worth putting people in danger just to beat me?? Is your pride really that goddamn fragile?!”

“I-I’m starting to get the hang of this…” Monoma yelled back with absolutely no confidence as if speaking the words aloud would make it so.

Hera went absolutely ballistic, wildly summoning her own bolts of lightning with enviable force and precision, ignoring the agony it caused her ribs and hoping to knock Monoma off balance so that she could blow him away. Annoyingly, Hera discovered him tying himself down with vines as she broke through the thick haze, the Pros around them yelling for them to cease the match.

“Cut the bullshit! We need to end this now!” Hera threatened him, knowing full well that he was too crazed with his own fears to turn tail and run away. Hera was running out of options. She couldn’t blow him away, because every time she tried slicing away Monoma’s vines with her gusts he just sprouted more. Hera still had no idea how her fire tornadoes worked, and if she fucked that up which was extremely likely she could burn the entire stadium to a crisp.

If Hera dispersed the fog then Aizawa could cancel out his Quirk, but giving this nut job even the slightest bit of visibility would leave her wide open. Monoma was a danger to himself and to everyone around him. Realistically, Hera only had one option left.

Centering herself amist the craziness, Hera fought to remind herself where she was. This was not the USJ. Not the same Ground Beta she had turned to ruins. Not the aftermath of what she did in Haven. This was an Arena created by UA, her school full of idiot friends and eccentric teachers. Her new family and innocent bystanders were in danger, but Hera had the power to protect them all and to put an end to this madness.

Spared the exertion of summoning clouds in a clear sky thanks to Monoma, a migraine bloomed in her temples as Hera willed the existing clouds above her to churn and swirl. A single stream of blood poured down her face from her nose as if to remind her of her impending time limit, but Hera ignored it. As she exhaled she willed the thinnest of twisters to touch down right between herself and Monoma, initially invisible to the crowd due to the lack of condensation present to illuminate the funnel. The swirling winds had been free of moisture and clear until they sucked up the fog around them, turning it a ghostly white. Hera shared one last dark look at Monoma, before willing the F-2 twister forward

and allowing it to yeet him across the stadium. In an instant both Monoma and his vine abominations were uprooted, forcing him out of bounds and into the air. He was intercepted by a Hero who broke his fall, and in seconds several Pro’s were holding Monoma down to cuff him with a Quirk Suppressor.

The next thing Hera remembered were her knees giving out, and the hard concrete of the stadium rushing up to meet her.


	20. Bile

Author's Note: I apologize for the slower than usual update. I have been struggling a lot with focus and depression and basically all of the symptoms of what I believe is undiagnosed ADHD? Also, I have been dabbling a little in several other Female OC x Various BNHA fanfiction ideas that at the time were easier for me to commit to this month. It's hard for me to rewrite basically MHA scenes with my OC intertwined into them because we all know what happens and it just made me bored. Not trying to rush future content but I can't wait until I get this story more up to date with the anime and eventually manga chapters because there are a few arcs in there that I can't wait to write Hera into!

My future works will be similar, but I'll probably weave it more in and out of cannon or imply the events that we already know about to be happening in the background. I wanna play around with other OC's in this universe, one being a Vigilante Female OC x Various AU that centers more on her relationships with the Villains, and the other Female OC the daughter of a gang leader who just wants to become a good Hero and do her best.

Not giving up on this story though! I've never cosplayed an OC before and I as of now have no Conventions to wear Hera to anyway, but she's been with me for like a year or so now and I've become quite attached to my fictional daughter.

I really love well-written BNHA OC x Various stories be it female/ male/ or unspecified. If anyone has any suggestions I am hungry for the content!

Enjoy ya'll! Good vibed from the shittiest place on the face of the Earth!

(Florida)

* * *

Through Torrents and Downpours

Chapter Twenty

* * *

Hera had only been out for a moment or so before Aizawa was at her side, helping back onto her feet while the Pros dragged Monoma back underground and out of the crowd’s sight. Aizawa’s eyes fell to Hera’s bleeding nose but immediately wrote it off as overexertion rather than an injury. Hera was carefully guarding her left side, from the moment he helped her to stand to the long walk to the infirmary.

“Anything broken?” Aizawa asked shortly as he helped Hera down onto one of the beds, but despite his protests, she refused to lay down. 

_ ‘My pride,’ _ Hera kicked herself internally.

“All of that mess was my fault,” Hera choked out through shallow breaths as the pain in her ribs came in sharp waves. “I let my guard down and he must have touched my skin in front of our class last week. Monoma must have copied my Quirk then.”

“Anyone with a Quirk as versatile as his should have been well aware of the risks,” Aizawa began, his concern growing when Hera refused to relinquish her hold on her side. “If he had a week to figure out how to use your Quirk and failed to test its limits then that’s his own fault.”

“...Broken,” Hera finally answered, ignoring his words with which she refused to take any comfort. She turned to Recovery Girl, who was busy dragging a large x-ray machine over to the heavily insulated room a few beds down. “If my ribs are just fractured and nothing is puncturing my lungs can we just tape me up? I’m not ready to be out of the Sports Festival just yet.”

Recovery Girl slapped Hera hard across her face.

“And just what haven’t you already proved? The world saw how you handled Monoma when he got out of control. You saved thousands of lives today. Listen, girl, you have done more than enough today,” Recovery Girl told her resolutely. 

_ ‘That didn’t bring back her parents or the other nineteen people I killed.’ _

“All they saw was some damn fog!” Hera’s voice cracked. “I’ve still got plenty of fight in me. Exhausted, maybe. Injured, yeah, but nothing serious. I swear after my ribs are taped up then I’ll be good to go,” Hera stood shakily. “Unless you want to leave me alone in the infirmary with my thoughts, which I promise you right now none of us do.”

Aizawa and Recovery Girl shared a long look.

“Only if they’re fractures!” Recovery Girl waved a finger in Hera’s face, and after several x-rays and an excessive amount of athletic tape, she knew she was in the clear.

* * *

Apparently, the universe truly hated her. Not only was Hera struggling to remain upright, but she was also several fights away from throwing down with who she really wanted to: namely her classmates and not all these randos. Bakugou had just beaten Tokoyami and now Midoriya was facing Todoroki. Whatever the outcome, Hera just wanted her next battle to be over with so that she could finally stand in the ring with them instead.

Close combat with Kirishima would be useless. His hardened skin would render all of her blows useless, and his weight in that form was well past what Hera could comfortably yeet with her own strength. If he rooted himself into the ground like Monoma’s vines then Hera would be shit out of luck to blow him out of the stadium without a repeat of her last battle. She could certainly win, but the resulting exhaustion would likely end her next battle before it even began.

A match against Midoriya would be a real toss-up. Both of them were already sporting wounds from their previous battles, and each of their Quirks were extremely taxing. Midoriya’s Quirk literally broke his bones, poor guy, and Hera had completely exhausted her stamina and time limit in her last battle with Monoma. If either of them had a chance at all, it would be to take out their opponent asap or hold out until the other one dropped.

Cheers from the crowd above ground and Present Mic’s obscene yelling from a ceiling speaker in the hallway announced Bakugou’s victory against Kirishima, and Hera tried to find some solace in winding up with him as her opponent. At least a battle with Explodey would be quick and painless. Even on her best day Hera was doubtful she could contend with Bakugou where Quirks were involved, and today was by far not her best day.

Todoroki was the one Hera had an actual beef with, and as much as she wanted to hit him right now to take out some of her unbridled rage, maybe it was best they didn’t cross paths in the ring after all. Hera was shit with her Quirk but boss when it came to hand to hand, and from what she had personally seen training with Todoroki his combat was just the opposite. If the incredible forces of their elements didn’t overcome one another then it was likely the person who best exploited the other’s weaknesses would be victorious. 

Ah, she was doing it again. Getting ahead of herself, overthinking until her head was spinning and she was overwhelmed. Oh god, was Midoriya starting to rub off on her? It was like Hera’s thought processes were starting to sound as analytical as Midoriya’s mutterings. She laughed a bit to herself as she thought of Samuel. If only he could see her now.

Hera’s next opponent would wind up being her last, even though she was the one who won the battle. She had been put up against some guy with a Mist Quirk, and for the most part, Hera assumed she’d kept all of the gases at bay. Maybe some had gotten mixed in with Hera’s fog and she had inhaled more than she had realized? 

The effects of the vapors had in short made Hera...well, high. However, its effects hadn’t taken immediate effect, so apart from feeling a tad more bruised after the fight Hera had felt otherwise fine. It was explained later to her that the poison was harmless, but that it manifested itself via several key emotional stages. Crippling depression - with which Hera was all too familiar - followed by an increase in adrenaline which causes paranoia, and finally a drunken bliss akin to the happiness of the valium used by dentists. 

Unfortunately for Hera, she mistakenly thought she was just having another panic attack. Hera also had no recollection of the cloud nine phase because by that point she was too far gone.  
The timing couldn’t have been worse. Todoroki had just finished his most recent confrontation with Midoriya when Hera had run into him, trying to find the courage she didn’t have to apologize to him. In summary, Hera defended Midoriya and tried to tell Todoroki straight, but this is Hera’s story so of course, none of that went over well. 

* * *

Bakugou had been fresh off his fight with Kirishima when he discovered Hera beneath an empty stairwell, crouched helplessly in on herself as choked sobs racked her body. His chest clenched at the sight, knowing that Hera must be feeling every bit as pathetic as she looked, no doubt embarrassed for the display of weakness. The stairwell had been the sole one at the end of the hall by Class 1-A’s waiting room, so Bakugou knew that Hera had likely been on her way there after her last match when this shit must have hit her. 

“Oi, what the fuck Short Stack?” Bakugou projected quietly enough to get Hera’s attention but pointedly keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t draw attention. She had flinched away from Bakugou at the sound of his voice, and he knew immediately that this attack had to have been at least as severe as the one Hera had back in Gym Gamma.

“I-I’m good,” Hera wheezed out through a stuffy nose, turning away from Bakugou in a futile attempt to hide her tears. 

“Wanna try that again?” Bakugou kept his voice low, but the threat had been there. Hera shook her head no. “What the hell happened? I’ll kick your ass right here if you try to sell me some bullshit that it’s nothing. Don’t think I won’t.”

“I...I saw...t-talked to To-Todoroki,” Hera hiccupped, and Bakugou was at her side in an instant, bitching about all of the dust beneath the stairs as he crawled over to her. 

He pulled Hera in close, muffling her words against his chest. Bakugou was damp with sweat from his last battle, but he smelled like cinnamon and cookies and home and Hera didn’t give a shit even if he reeked. His scent took her back to the brief time where her mom was still sober enough to care about cooking dinner and baking sweets, and Hera couldn’t decide if this made her feel better or worse. 

“Shut up and take deep breaths,” Bakugou ordered while Hera clung to him like he might fade disappear any second. She did as she was told. “We’re talking about this later, Midget, and I want details. Don’t you dare tell anyone I did this.”

“I promise,” Hera nodded against his shoulder, resting her cheek atop his collar and still working on her breathing. 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” Bakugou reminded Hera with a light yank on her hair. “I ain’t telling you again.”

It took Hera several moments to cease her hyperventilating, but even then Bakugou wouldn’t exactly call her current state relaxed. Hera was jumpy and anxious, every distant noise that echoed through the building causing her some amount of distress. Bakugou had no idea what exactly Icy Hot had said to get Hera to make her this upset, but the bastard was now at the top of his shit list, maybe even higher up than Deku. And that was saying something. 

“Get it together already,” Bakugou commanded, but he wasn’t letting go until Hera did. “Find yourself a fucking sink and wash your damn face. You’re not gonna win another fight crying beneath a fucking staircase. Why run here of all places anyway?”

“...My dad used to be pretty violent. I used to hide from him in our attic and wait until he calmed down or passed out drunk. I guess that’s why small places make me feel safe because of that,” Hera told him, and Bakugou found himself instinctively holding her closer in response. “He is a lot of the reason I have so many...issues.”

An odd feeling of lightheadedness started to wash over her then, rather than the usual numbness that followed her episodes. But Hera attributed it to Bakugou’s intervention, but it felt pretty good so she wasn’t complaining and thought nothing of it. She choked out a thank you and hastily wiped the tears from her eyes as they continued to fall with shaking hands, but Bakugou kept hold of Hera’s shoulders because he felt like she still needed the contact. 

When Bakugou noticed how Hera refused to meet his gaze and busied herself by looking anywhere else, he roughly grabbed at her chin and forced her to look up at him.

“I said cut the shit,” Bakugou glared down at her, roughly thumbing away her tears with a calloused hand. The wavering spark in Hera’s eyes eventually started to ignite into something he allowed himself to acknowledge just this once. Bakugou’s eyes were still severe, but it was only when the terror began to fade away in Hera’s that he finally unclenched his jaw. “That’s fucking better.”

* * *

Bakugou had walked Hera to the nearest restroom in silence as she collected herself quietly beside him. He told her to wash up and meet him back in the waiting room when she was done, while he went off in search of a vending machine to buy her a cheap energy drink. What neither of them expected was for the happy gas part of her last opponent’s Quirk to kick in full force in the span of about five minutes. 

The moment Hera had drunkenly stumbled into the waiting room Todoroki was concerned. Her eyes had been completely glazed over, pupils dilated as her legs soon lost the fight to support her weight. Todoroki asked Hera what was wrong, but she didn’t smell like any alcohol. Perhaps she took something? Todoroki thought about Hera’s childhood, quickly dismissing the thought with finality. 

He came to stand at her side, one hand supporting her lower back while his other checked her pulse as she continued to sway unsteadily. Todoroki tried to get a coherent response from her, any response, but Hera only glared at him. Its effect was lost by her overpowering drunken expression which made her appear more childlike than anything else. She made a jerk away from him, but Todoroki’s grip on her was like iron, gathering Hera in his arms like a wilted flower before setting her into one of the chairs lining the wall. She leaned against his collar, no longer able to sit up properly or even discern up from down. 

“My ribs huuuurrrrrt,” Hera slurred suddenly, hands holding her left side as she winced. “Stop touching them. Those are all broken.” Todoroki moved his hand away as if he had burned her, his worry only rising further. He distracted Hera with conversation as he lightly traced his fingers against the fabric of her shirt, feeling a thick bandage through the thin material.

“From your last fight?” Todoroki surmised, speaking slowly so Hera could understand him. “Did Recovery Girl give you anything for the pain?”

Hera giggled unhelpfully. Todoroki tried to convince Hera that she needed to see Recovery Girl, but Hera wasn’t having it. This was bad. He didn’t have his phone on him and there was no one in sight. He couldn’t leave Hera unattended when she was this vulnerable, but he didn’t want to risk hurting her if she refused to come with him willingly.

Todoroki’s sole saving grace of the day had come in the form of an angry blond he knew far too well, said angry boy with a grape soda in one hand, an energy drink in the other. Bakugou took one look at the situation and soon the shouting began.

“What the fuck did you do to Midget?!” 

“Why in the world would any of this be my fault?!” Todoroki lost his temper in response, the urge to punch Bakugou then and there quelled only by his otherwise occupied arms.

“Oi! Cut the shit, Short Stack!” Bakugou projected down to them, coming to kneel at Hera’s other side as he set the now forgotten drinks onto a nearby chair. 

To their horror, Hera only continued to laugh, turning to Bakugou to ‘boop’ him on the nose with her index finger. To Todoroki’s shock, Bakugou had allowed it. 

“She’s fucking gone,” Bakugou shook his head, his worry evident through barely masked annoyance. 

“I don’t have my phone on me,” Todoroki got Bakugou up to speed, supporting Hera’s head as she slumped against him, giggles still bubbling from her mouth. “I tried lifting her but she complained her ribs were broken from her last match.” Todoroki motioned to Hera’s left side.

“I just saw her not five fucking minutes ago,” Bakugou complained with a grumbled and a huff, bending at the waist to begrudgingly help Todoroki lift Hera as carefully as possible. “She was just bawling like a damn baby in the hallway and- she didn’t say shit about any broken ribs!”

“Hera was crying?” Todoroki tread cautiously, hoisting her up on Bakugou’s count - Todoroki didn’t have the mental energy to fight him on this - and towing Hera down the hallway. Their choice of lift had been to sling Hera’s arms over each of their shoulders, while the two of them hooked their arms beneath her legs. Todoroki wondered if one of the two drinks had been for Hera to cheer her up.  _ ‘How un-Bakugou like,’ _ Todoroki thought smugly.

Bakugou had only answered Todoroki with a glare similar to Kirishima’s, confirming two things to Todoroki. Hera had been crying because of himself, and Bakugou also knew about her panic attacks.

“This is fucking ridiculous as shit,” Bakugou jerked his head towards Hera, motioning to the chaotic ass way they were carrying her. 

“Hehe no, it’s nottt,” Hera slurred. “Now my favorite boys can be on my calva-cal...vry team?”

“Favorite boys?” Todoroki noted with a hint of jealousy, but he wasn’t able to identify it as such at the time.

“Oh my God she can’t even talk anymore,” Bakugou groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance before looking down at Hera in the next instant, unable to keep his eyes off of her for long.

“...Yes she can,” Hera whispered to Todoroki, and had this been any other situation he would have smiled at her nonsense. 

“She’s too damn light to need two people to carry her,” Bakugou continued with growing annoyance. 

“This was the easiest way to get her to the infirmary,” Todoroki reminded Bakugou when he continued to grunt in complaint. “Any other way would have hurt her.”

“How was Hera acting earlier when she was with you?” Todoroki asked as the three of them hobbled down the hallway.

“Not like this shit,” was all Bakugou supplied. “Sobbing like a bitch beneath the stairs for some damn reason, but at least she was fucking coherent. I told her to go wash her damn face.”

“You don’t think she…?” Todoroki ventured dangerously.

“Took something?” Bakugou finished incredulously. “Fuck no. Midget would sooner end herself before turning to any of that bullshit.”

Todoroki shared a knowing look with Bakugou as the truth behind the statement hit them both. They appeared at the threshold of the infirmary and Recovery Girl took one look at the trio in question. 

“I see the gas finally affected her,” the elderly Hero sighed heavily as she directed them to deposit Hera onto the nearest gurney. “Took so long I started to think she hadn’t inhaled enough of it.”

“What fucking gas?” Bakugou demanded in confusion. Recovery Girl gave Bakugou a warning look for the curse, deciding to let it go when she recognized the uncharacteristic concern in his voice for his friend. The Hero had an IV in Hera’s arm and an oxygen mask on her face in seconds, smirking as she watched the two boys in question. 

It was obvious to Recovery Girl that Todoroki was only pretending to take Hera’s pulse on her wrist in order to hold her hand, and judging by the snarl on Bakugou’s face he had noticed this as well.

“I supposed you missed Hera’s last match,” Recovery Girl concluded simply as Hera played with Todoroki’s fingers, laughing like a child having the time of her life. Really, it was a wonder Bakugou hasn’t punched Todoroki yet. “Her last opponent had a mist type Quirk. Inhaling the pink fog can cause an adrenaline rush as well as powerful hallucinations. Miss Hera here had won the match with her winds, but it looks like the poison has finally taken its toll.”

“-Poison?”

“-What poison?”

Bakugou and Todoroki had spoken at the same time, and for a moment Recovery Girl considered if she would need to tranquilize them to avoid a brawl in the infirmary if their flashing eyes of murderous intent were anything to go by.

“Will she be alright?” Todoroki asked Recovery Girl, worriedly keeping hold of Hera’s hand as she began to drift off. He refused to tear his eyes away from Bakugou until he scoffed and decided he couldn’t stand to look at Todoroki any longer.

“She would have been even without my intervention,” the Hero assured them both. “But the two of you did the right thing bringing her here. The fluids and oxygen will clear the poison out of her system soon enough. With a little rest Miss Hera should be fine.”

“Did Short Stack bust her ribs up against that mist bastard?” Bakugou interrogated, hating how smug Todoroki looked as he held onto Hera’s hand as she drifted off. It took everything in him not to blast that Half n’ Half bastard to kingdom fucking come. 

“Oh no, that injury was from her match with Monoma,” Recovery Girl told them, lightly tapping her cane against the metal frame of Hera’s bed. “I take it you two witnessed that battle?”

Both Todoroki and Bakugou averted their gazes in response, training their distant glares elsewhere as they remembered just how close the entire stadium had come to carnage. Each of them made their own mental notes to deal with Monoma later. 

“Well perhaps this is a blessing in disguise,” Recovery Girl continued positively. “Little Hera here certainly needed a break. If I’d had my way then I would’ve healed her up after her match with Monoma, but she refused my aid. Didn’t want to be disqualified from the Sports Festival if I gave her medical attention in between matches.”

“Looks like it’s just you and me Half n’ Half,” Bakugou grinned menacingly with a wicked smile that was all teeth.

“And Midoriya I believe,” Todoroki corrected curtly, an announcement from Present Mic blaring overhead to summon Icy Hot to his next match.

“Better pray that stupid nerd kicks your ass then, cuz I ain’t holding back,” Bakugou happily took his place in Todoroki’s chair, grasping as Hera’s hands in his absence as she slept soundly and for a second Todoroki swore he saw red.

Recovery Girl took one long look at them both, wordlessly halting Todoroki in his tracks with a raise of her hand. She ventured across the room and retrieved two small packs of something from a white medicine cabinet with glass doors. 

Unceremoniously, the Hero tossed two neatly folded sleeves of condoms onto their laps, waiting with bated breath as all Hell broke loose in the infirmary.

Then smoke and explosions detonated softly with little power to them, and for a moment Recovery Girl wondered if Bakugou was even breathing in between his ear-splitting screams of denial. Todoroki in contrast had fallen deathly silent, half of his hair suddenly ablaze while his opposing shoulder frosted over, an equally red blush blooming across his face, ears, and neck.

“If you two are so obsessed with her then go ahead and confess already,” the Hero winked at the boys knowingly. “And be safe while you’re at it!”

Todoroki couldn’t flee from the room fast enough, and for once Bakugou had been the one rendered a stuttering mess.

* * *

Bakugou and Todoroki each survived several more battles with flying colors, but it was Midoriya’s match with Todoroki that changed the dynamics of the Sports Festival.

Todoroki was always so careful, his every expression calculated to mask the emotions that threatened to swallow him whole. He could drown out Present Mic and the roar of the crowd, but Endeavor’s selfish commands cut through all of the noise like the blaring horn of a train at night. Todoroki had gone into this battle drowning in rage and anger, but his resolve began to crumble as his battle with Midoriya hit a stalemate. Green passionate eyes looked into his own, peeling away the suffocating expectations of society and leaving Todoroki feeling raw in front of him. 

Memories of Todoroki’s haggard mother washed over him with Endeavor’s every condescending yell, reminding him of his vow to only use his ice. But Midoriya wasn’t budging. Both in his attacks as well as his own resolve to help build Todoroki’s confidence. To think that Todoroki’s opponent would be the one to motivate him to use his full power, even if that outcome would undoubtedly spell Midoriya’s demise. 

Here was this mysterious boy who cried at the drop of a hat, a guy who could barely control his own Quirk without destroying himself, Todoroki’s classmate who somehow gained the attention of the one good thing he had to look up to: All Might. For a brief moment, Todoroki wondered if Midoriya was mocking him with false sincerity, but no one with eyes as intense as those could possibly strive to belittle him - certainly not on national tv. 

Against Todoroki’s predictions, Midoriya was proving to be more than simply an obstacle to overcome. 

“You’re trembling, Todoroki,” Midoriya had stated, his breathing ragged from the unimaginable pain his hands and arms surely must be feeling. His green eyes still seeing right through Todoroki as if he were made of glass. Midoriya called Todoroki out for having dared to hold back against him, and against everyone else so far. It was almost insulting to be beaten by an opponent who was only using half of his strength when here Midoriya was wrecking himself just to be able to stand in the same ring. 

An angry exchange of words, a hard punch to Todoroki’s stomach, the splatter of Midoriya’s blood on cement as he continued to break his body to prove his unwavering point. Their stamina was beginning to fail them, and Todoroki could feel his body moving significantly slower than before, but Midoriya just kept coming. It was as if winning the Sports Festival was now off the table for him, and that Midoriya’s new mission was to rile Todoroki enough to strike him down once and for all with his fire. 

As the onslaught continued Todoroki’s memories strayed to a memory of his mother, encouraging him to be a hero because his dream was to help people just like his childhood idol. Just like All Might. Not because his father forced the path onto him, but because it was Shouto’s dream and no one else’s. Todoroki felt inspired for all of one fleeting moment. Igniting his flames and thawing himself out, Todoroki’s eyes met Midoriya’s as if in warning. The entire stadium could feel the growing heat of his flames as they intensified, flowing out from him like lava from a volcano.

His flames disappeared just as quickly.

Another gut-wrenching hit to Todoroki’s stomach, his consciousness flickering for half a second, the harsh brute baritone of Endeavor’s voice piercing through the crowd in spite of everything currently on his son’s plate. He could hear his mother’s hollow screams as she reached for that infamous pot of boiling water and poured it over his face, and all at once Todoroki was that helpless child in the kitchen again, injured in more ways than one.

Midoriya’s triumphant smile of victory melted away the crippling tension of Endeavor’s ignorance as Todoroki launched a literal avalanche from his right side. His attack collided with Midoriya’s with deafening volume, the resulting explosion shaking the entire Arena. Midnight’s pheromone gases failed to reach either of them in time, but luckily Cementos’ walls had cushioned the blow enough that it wouldn’t be lethal. Midoriya had been thrown into a wall and thus well out of bounds, knocked unconscious from the impact. Todoroki had won. 

So why did he still feel so empty?

* * *

Bakugou’s arms were killing him. His shoulders were sore and he could feel the agonizing sting from the fresh burns on his palms. He didn’t give a shit about this now, though. The burns would melt his skin into blisters, and those blisters would eventually become calluses. The skin that grew back would be tougher, stronger. And so would he. 

His mind involuntarily drifted back to Hera and the way that Half n Half bastard dared to look at her with longing. It made Bakugou want to vomit. The Midget could barely function as it was. The last thing she needed was some cocky asshole who couldn’t even bring his best to a fight without being dragged down by his fucking daddy. Short Stack needed someone confident and capable. Someone like hi-

Bakugou clenched his teeth, shaking his head and the thought away before he could fully form it into being. He trained his gaze on Todoroki as they ascended the stairs to the newly repaired stage. What Bakugou needed right now was to hit something, to knock some sense into that half-assed son of a bitch. To channel the searing anger emanating from every fiber of his being into Todoroki with every blast and punch. 

To forget about Hera long enough to clean the floor with this cocky prick that had the nerve to think he was better than Bakugou fucking Katsuki.

What the Hell was the point of winning if Bakugou’s opponents didn’t come at him at their very best? How could he call himself number one if his damn opponent wavered at the drop of a hat?

More than once, Todoroki had Bakugou on the ropes, much to his fury and exhilaration. But every opportunity Todoroki could have gained the advantage by using his fire, he let it slip through his fingers like sand at the beach. In the crowd he could still hear Endeavor and Midoriya cheering him on, albeit for two entirely different reasons. The shrill and desperate sound of Midoriya’s voice struck a chord within Todoroki in a way nothing else likely ever could. It was enough inspiration to get him to summon his flames in full force, burning off half of his gym shirt and patches of his pants in their wake. 

He could see Bakugou’s wicked smirk as he launched himself into the air and turned himself into a human projectile with calculated bursts from his hands. But as Bakugou descended upon him to land the final and ending blow, all Todoroki could hear was his mother’s shrill screams echoing like ghosts in his ear. All over again, he was that child in the kitchen.

His flames withered and died out completely a mere few seconds before Bakugou’s attack landed without fail, unwavering as stone and sending Todoroki into a wall of his own ice. Bakugou face planted rather ungracefully into the concrete stage upon landing from one of the most powerful attacks he had ever unleashed, but his celebrations were short lived. As the smoke cleared around them and Bakugou got his bearings he noted with horror that Todoroki was strewn unconscious onto the shattered glaciers of his own ice and entirely out of bounds.

Bakugou saw red.

He rushed Todoroki’s limp form and grabbed him roughly by the shirt, furiously shaking him like a rag doll until a sweet smell overpowered his reason and sent him back onto the ground. When he finally came to he was muzzled and chained to a podium falsely marked first place. He screamed ad fought but the metal bindings held fast, muffling his cries of protest and disgust as his idol, his Hero, his living goal to beat - All Might himself - forced Bakugou to accept a gold medal that he didn’t fucking deserve.

* * *

Hera awoke in the infirmary later that night, finally sober and more than a tad queasy. The first thing she did was seek out the nearest remote and turned on the local news station which was playing the UA Sports Festival on loop. She didn’t give a shit about her own fights because she was fucking there, after all. Hera could always rewatch those later. She fast-forwarded the recording forward from her last fight with that pink mist kid, committing the next hour or so of her life watching the fights of everyone she had missed after she had passed out to get herself back up to speed. 

Kirishima’s fight with Bakugou had her wincing at the sound of the blows they exchanged, but she fought not to cheer out loud as she watched Todoroki’s fight with Ida. Several battles later Hera was still fighting nausea, but Midoriya’s fight with Todoroki had her fucking shook. The entire fight had her rooting for both of them, and at the end of it, Hera couldn’t decide if she wanted to punch Todoroki in the gut or give him a well-needed hug. 

Hera’s stomach took a turn for the worse as she choked down Bakugou’s battle with Todoroki, and she wouldn’t have watched the medal ceremony even if she hadn’t bolted for the bathroom to vomit. She felt awful. Guilty. Her friends had needed her support and she’d been in a drunken stupor she didn’t even remember. The last thing she wanted to be doing right now was allowing Recovery Girl to tie her hair back while she bent helplessly over a toilet. 

Hera wanted to grab her phone and call them, check their class’ group chat she had neglected to check when she opted to binge the rest of the Sports Festival. She wanted to break out of the infirmary and charge through the school gates and go to them.

But she was stuck here, gagging on her own bile and helplessness. 


End file.
